This the Colonel permitted, and the chaplain, sitting by Mrs.Lawrence's bed, told her of it, and of Sergeant McGillicuddy's remorse.

Until then, Mrs.Lawrence, lying in her bed, had remained strangely tearless, although a faint moan sometimes escaped her lips.
At the chaplain's words she suddenly burst into a rain of tears.
"My husband never meant to desert," she cried between her sobs.

"He was doing his duty well--his own Sergeant said so.

He must have been crazy when he struck the blow!" "Poor McGillicuddy," said the chaplain quietly.

"The Colonel has forbidden him to speak of it to any one, and he is breaking his heart over it." No word of forgiveness came from Mrs.Lawrence's lips.
"It is the way with all of them, officers and men, they were all down on my husband because they thought he had done something wrong," said Mrs.Lawrence, with the divine, unreasoning love of a devoted woman.
"Mr.Broussard was not down on your husband," said the chaplain.
"True," replied Mrs.Lawrence, and then shut her lips close.