the tune, and the mighty
chorus rolled and swelled across the fields. Harry's heart throbbed
hard. He was with the South, his own South, and he was swayed wholly by
feeling.

The Acadians were leading the army. Harry saw Jackson whispering
something to a staff officer. The officer galloped forward and spoke to
Taylor, the commander of the Louisiana troops. Instantly the Acadians
turned sharply from the turnpike and walked in a diagonal line through
the fields. The whole army followed and they marched steadily northward
and eastward.

Harry had another good and close view of the Massanuttons, now one
vast mass of dark green foliage, and it caused his thoughts to turn to
Shepard. He had no doubt that the wary and astute Northern scout was
somewhere near watching the march of Stonewall. He had secured a pair of
glasses of his own and he scanned the fields and forests now for a
sight of him and his bold horsemen. But he saw no blue uniforms, merely
farmers and their wives and children, shouting with joy at the sight of
Jackson, eager to give him information, and eager to hide it from Banks.

But Harry was destined to have more than another view of the
Massanuttons. Jackson marched steadily for four days, crossing the
Massanuttons at the defile, and coming down into the eastern valley.
The troops were joyous throughout the journey, although they had not the
least idea for what they were destined, and Ewell's men made good their
claim to a place of equal honor in the foot cavalry.

They were now in the division of the great valley known as the Luray,
and only when they stopped did Harry and his comrades of the staff learn
that the Northern army under Kenly was only ten miles away at Front
Royal.

The preceding night had been one of great confidence, even of
light-heartedness in Washington. The worn and melancholy President felt
that a triumphant issue of the war was at hand. The Secretary of War was
more than sanguine, and the people in the city joyfully expected
speedy news of the fall of Richmond. McClellan was advancing with an
overwhelming force on the Southern capital, and the few regiments of
Jackson were lost somewhere in the mountains. In the west all things
were going well under Grant.

It was only a few who, recognizing that the army of Jackson was lost to
Northern eyes, began to ask questions about it. But they were laughed
down. Jackson had too few men to do any harm, wherever he might be.
Nobody suspected