Tomorrow, Starbuck thought, he would seek a long talk with Washington Faulconer. Tomorrow he would confront his mistake and put it right. Tomorrow he would begin to straighten himself with man and God. Tomorrow he would be born again, and that idea cheered him and even made him smile, and then he forgot the thought entirely, indeed he let the whole plan of going back to the North slide free of his mind altogether, for there, coming from the Legion’s encampment and mounted on a pale horse, was a stocky young man with a square beard and a welcoming smile, and Starbuck, who had been feeling so lonely and so mistreated, galloped madly ahead to greet his friend.

For Adam had come home.

The Friends Met, Reined...

THE FRIENDS MET, REINED IN, BOTH SPOKE AT ONCE, CHECKED, laughed, spoke again, but were each too full of news and the pleasure of reunion to make much sense of the other. “You look weary.” Adam at last managed to edge in an intelligible remark.

“I am.”

“I must meet Father. Then we’ll talk.” Adam spurred on toward Washington Faulconer who, the failure of his raid apparently forgotten, was beaming with happiness at his son’s return.

“How did you get back?” Faulconer called as his son galloped toward him.

“They wouldn’t let me over the Long Bridge at Washington, so I went upriver and paid a ferryman near Leesburg.”

“When did you get home?”

“Just yesterday.” Adam reined in to receive his father’s greeting. It was plain to everyone that Washington Faulconer’s happiness was entirely restored. His son had come home, and the uncertainties of Adam’s loyalty were thus resolved. The Colonel’s pleasure expanded to include and even to seek forgiveness from Starbuck. “I’ve been distracted, Nate. You must forgive me,” he said quietly to Nate when Adam had gone on to greet Murphy, Hinton and Truslow.

Starbuck, too embarrassed by the older man’s apology, said nothing.

“You’ll join us for dinner at Seven Springs, Nate?” Faulconer had mistaken Starbuck’s silence for pique. “I’d take it hard if you refused.”

“Of course, sir.” Starbuck paused, then bit an unfair bullet. “And I’m sorry if I let you down, sir.”

“You didn’t, you didn’t, you didn’t.” Faulconer thus hurriedly brushed away Starbuck’s apology. “I’ve been distracted, Nate. Nothing else. I put too many hopes in that raid, and didn’t foresee the weather. That was all it was, Nate, the weather. Adam, come!” Adam had spent much of his morning meeting his old friends in the Legion, but his father now insisted on showing his son around the whole encampment one more time, and Adam good-humoredly expressed his admiration of the tent lines and the horse lines, and of the cook house, the wagon park and the meeting tent.