m, and whenever he spoke to one of them he
cocked his head on one side in the peculiar manner that was habitual
with him. Now and then, as the sun grew warmer, he took off his hat and
his bald head gleamed under the yellow rays.

"Which way do you think we're going?" said the young staff officer,
George Dalton, to Harry--Dalton was a quiet youth with a good deal of
the Puritan about him and Harry liked him.

"I'm not thinking about it at all," replied Harry with a laugh. "I've
quit trying to guess what our general is going to do, but I fancy that
he means to lead us against the enemy. He has the numbers now."

"I suppose you're right," said Dalton. "I've been trying to guess all
along, but I think I'll give it up now and merely follow where the
general leads."

The bugles blew, the troops rapidly fell into line and marched northward
along the turnpike, the Creole band began to play again one of those
lilting waltz tunes, and the speed of the men increased, their feet
rising and falling swiftly to the rhythm of the galloping air. Jackson,
who was near the head of the column, looked back and Harry saw a faint
smile pass over his grim face. He saw the value of the music.

"I never heard such airs in our Presbyterian church," said Dalton to
Harry.

"But this isn't a church."

"No, it isn't, but those Creole tunes suit here. They put fresh life
into me."

"Same here. And they help the men, too. Look how gay they are."

Up went the shining sun. The brilliant blue light, shot with gold,
spread from horizon to horizon, little white clouds of vapor, tinted
at the edges with gold from the sun, floated here and there. It was
beautiful May over all the valley. White dust flew from the turnpike
under the feet of so many marching men and horses, and the wheels of
cannon. Suddenly the Georgia troops that had suffered so severely at
McDowell began to sing a verse from the Stars and Bars, and gradually
the whole column joined in:

"Now Georgia marches to the front
And close beside her come
Her sisters by the Mexique sea
With pealing trump and drum,
Till answering back from hill and glen
The rallying cry afar,
A nation hoists the Bonnie Blue Flag
That bears a single star."

It was impossible not to feel emotion. The face of the most solemn
Presbyterian of them all flushed and his eyes glowed. Now the band, that
wonderful band of the Acadians, was playing