The wide street was quiet and deserted under the scorching sun. The<br >leaves on the vines and trees in its gardens hung limply; even the birds<br >had no strength to sing in the heavy， sticky air.<br > Then the silence was broken by the rise and fall of chimes， repeated<br >four times. A deep bell sounded four strokes， and a strong voice called<br >out: "Four of the clock， and all s well."<br > A short time later， there was a distant noise of galloping hooves. The<br >watchman in the church steeple looked intently as the gray-uniformed<br >rider approached then passed beneath him. It was all right. He recognized<br >the young officer. It was Andrew Anson， hurrying to his house farther<br >down Meeting Street.<br > "August 8， 1863，" wrote Major William Ellis in his small pocket<br >journal. His handwriting was precise， neatly formed and even. "We have<br >succeeded in our efforts to remain undetected，" the words marched ex-<br >actly across the thin page， "and we are prepared to defend ourselves<br >against the aroused Rebels when they learn of our presence. There will be<br >many of them， to our few， but we trust in God to help us， because our<br >cause is just. The Parrott gun we have brought from the ship is aimed at<br >the very heart of the Rebellion. It will be our privilege to bring down in<br >dust the arrogant seed of the so-called Confederacy. God grant that the<br >wound be mortal."<br > "Andrew!" Lucy Anson s arms reached for her husband. He kissed<br >her， hurried kisses on her face， eyes， lips， hair， until Lucy began to gasp.<br > Then he took both her hands in his and held them to his face. His eyes<br > were glowing.<br > "You re so beautiful，" he whispered.<br > Lucy s wide gray eyes filled with happy tears. "How long is your<br > leave?" she said. "You should have told me you were coming so I could<br > have everything ready. No， I take that back. The surprise was wonderful."<br >