But the other
officers shook their heads sadly. There had been a confusion of orders.
Their own troops had been scattered and their supply trains were far
away. If they attacked they would surely fall.

Jackson reluctantly gave up his plan and walked gloomily away. But he
turned presently and beckoned to Harry and others of his staff. His eyes
were shining. Some strange mood seemed to possess him.

"Mount at once, gentlemen," he said, "and ride with me. I'm going to
Winchester."

One or two of the officers opened their mouths to protest, but checked
the words when they saw Jackson's stern face. They sprang into the
saddle, and scorning possible attack or capture by roving Union cavalry,
galloped to the town.

Jackson drew rein before the manse, where Dr. Graham was already
standing at the open door to meet him, runners from the town carrying
ahead the news that Jackson was returning with his staff. It seemed that
something the general had said to the minister the day before troubled
him. Harry inferred from the words he heard that Jackson had promised
the minister too much and now he was stung by conscience. Doubtless
he had told Dr. Graham that he would never let the Federals take
Winchester, and he had come to apologize for his mistake. Harry was not
at all surprised. In fact, as he came to know him thoroughly, he was
never surprised at anything this strange man and genius did.

Harry's surmise was right. Jackson was torn with emotion at being
compelled to abandon Winchester, and he wanted to explain how it was to
the friend whom he liked so well. He had thoughts even yet of striking
the enemy that night and driving him away. Looking the minister steadily
in the face, but not seeing him, seeing instead a field of battle, he
said slowly, biting each word:

"I--will--yet--carry--out--this plan. I--will--think. It--must be done."

The minister said nothing, standing and staring at the general like
one fascinated. He had never seen Jackson that way before. His face
was lined with thought and his eyes burned like coals of fire. His
hand fiercely clinched the hilt of his sword. He, who showed emotion so
rarely, was overcome by it now.

But the fire in his eyes died, his head sank, and his hand fell from his
sword.

"No, no," he said sadly. "I must not try it. Too many of my brave men
would fall. I must withdraw, and await a better time."

Saying good-by to his friend he mounted and rode in silence from
Winches