at he came nearer his face showed great anxiety as well as
weariness.

Harry opened the door promptly and pushed him inside. Then he helped him
off with his wet and muddy overcoat, pushed him into a chair, and said:

"I'll announce you to General Jackson, and he'll see you at once."

Harry knew that Jackson would not linger a second, when a messenger of
importance came, and he went into the library where the minister and
the general stood talking. General Jackson held in one hand a large
leather-covered volume, and with the forefinger of the other hand he was
pointing to a paragraph in it. The minister was saying something
that Harry did not catch, but he believed that they were arguing some
disputed point of Presbyterian doctrine.

When Jackson saw Harry he closed the book instantly, and put it on the
shelf. He had seen in the eyes of his aide that he was coming with no
common message.

"Captain Sherburne is in the hall, sir," said the boy. "He has come back
from the scout toward Romney."

"Bring him in."

The minister quietly slipped out, as Sherburne entered, but Jackson bade
Harry remain, saying that he might have orders for him to carry.

"What have you to tell me, Captain Sherburne?" asked Jackson.

"We saw the patrols of the enemy, and we took two prisoners. We learned
that McClellan's army is showing signs of moving, and we saw with
our own eyes that Banks and Shields are preparing for the same. They
threaten us here in Winchester."

"What force do you think Banks has?"

"He must have forty thousand men."

"A good guess. The figures of my spies say thirty-eight thousand, and we
can muster scarcely five thousand here. We must move."

Jackson spoke without emotion. His words were cold and dry, even formal.
Harry's heart sank. If eight times their numbers were advancing upon
them, then they must abandon Winchester. They must leave to the enemy
this pleasant little city, so warmly devoted to the Southern cause and
confess weakness and defeat to these friends who had done so much for
them during their stay.

He felt the full bitterness of the blow. The people of the South--little
immigration had gone there--were knit together more closely by ties of
kinship than those of the North. Harry through the maternal line was,
like most Kentuckians, of Virginia descent, and even here in Winchester
he had found cousins, more or less removed it was true, but it was
kinship, nevertheless, and they had made the m