the President.

"If I may," returned Harry. "In South Carolina I was with Colonel
Leonidas Talbot. I have had a letter from him here, and, if it is your
pleasure and that of General Beauregard, I shall be glad to join his
command."

General Beauregard laughed a little.

"You do well," he said. "I have known Colonel Talbot a long time, and,
although he may be slow in choosing he is bound to be in the very thick
of events when he does choose. Colonel Talbot is at the front, and
you'll probably find him closer than any other officer to the Yankee
army. We need everybody whom we can get, especially lads of spirit
and fire like you. You shall be a second lieutenant in his command.
A train will leave here in four hours. Be ready. It will take you part
of the way and you will march on for the rest."

Mr. Benjamin did not speak throughout the interview, but he watched
Harry closely. Neither did he speak when he left, but he offered him a
limp hand. The boy's view of Richmond was in truth brief, as before
night he saw its spires and roofs fading behind him. The train was
wholly military. There were four coaches filled with officers and
troops, and two more coaches behind them loaded with ammunition.

Harry heard from some of the officers that the army was gathered at a
place called Manassas Junction, where Beauregard had taken command on
June 1st, and to which he would quickly return. But Harry did not know
any of these officers and he felt a little lonely. He slept after a
while in the car seat, awakened at times by the jolting or stopping of
the train, and arrived some time the next day in a country of green
hills and red clay roads, muddy from heavy rains.

They left the train, marched over the hills along one of the muddy roads,
and presently saw a vast array of tents, fires, and earthworks,
stretching to the horizon. Harry's heart leaped again. This was the
great army of the South. Here were regiments and regiments, thousands
and thousands of men and here he would find his friends, Colonel Talbot
and Major St. Hilaire, and St. Clair and Langdon.

The whole scene was inspiring in the extreme to the heart of youth.
Far to the right he saw cavalry galloping back and forth, and to the
left he saw infantry drilling. From somewhere in front came the strains
of a regimental band playing:

"The hour was sad, I left the maid,
A lingering farewell taking,
Her sighs and tears my steps delayed,