r wanted to fight on Sunday. The boy himself had been reared in a
stern Methodist faith, and the lightness in this French blood of the
South was new to him. But it pleased him to see them sing and dance, and
he found no wrong in it, although he could not have done it himself.

Captain Morton noticed Harry's close attention and he read his mind.

"They surprised me, too, at first," he said, "but they're fine soldiers,
and they've put cheer into this army many a time when it needed it
most. Taylor, their commander, is a West Pointer and he's got them into
wonderful trim. They're well clothed and well shod. They never straggle
and they're just about the best marchers we have. They'll soon be rated
high among Jackson's foot cavalry."

Harry left the Acadians with reluctance, and when he made the round of
the camp General Ewell, who had finished the conference, told him that
he would have no message to send that night to Jackson. He might go to
sleep, but the whole division would march early in the morning. Harry
wrapped himself again in his cloak, found a place soft with moss under a
tree, and slept with the soft May wind playing over his face and lulling
him to deeper slumber.

He rode the next morning with General Ewell and the whole division to
join Jackson's army. It was a trim body of men, well clad, fresh and
strong, and they marched swiftly along the turnpike, on both sides of
which Jackson was encamped further on.

Harry felt a personal pride in being with Ewell when the junction was
to be made. He felt that, in a sense, he was leading in this great
reinforcement himself, and he looked back with intense satisfaction at
the powerful column marching so swiftly along the turnpike.

They came late in the day to Jackson's pickets, and then they saw his
army, scattered through the fields on either side of the road.

Harry rejoiced once more in the grand appearance of the new division.
Every coat or tunic sat straight. Every shoe-lace was tied, and they
marched with the beautiful, even step of soldiers on parade. They
were to encamp beyond Jackson's old army, and as they passed along the
turnpike it was lined on either side by Jackson's own men, cheering with
vigor.

The colonel who was in immediate charge of the encampment, a man who had
never seen General Jackson, asked Harry where he might find him. Harry
pointed to a man sitting on the top rail of a fence beside the road.

"But I asked for General Jackson," sa