that at dawn Jackson, with a strong force, would be
only a little more than three score miles from the Union capital itself.
Even Banks himself, who was only half that distance from the Southern
army, did not dream that it was coming.

When the sun swung clear that May morning there was a great elation
in this army which had been lost to its enemies for days and which the
unknowing despised. They ate a good breakfast, and then, as the Creole
band began to play its waltzes again, they advanced swiftly on Front
Royal.

"We'll be attacking in two hours," said Dalton.

"In less time than that, I'm thinking," said Harry. "Look how the men
are speeding it up!"

The band ceased suddenly. Harry surmised that it had been stopped,
in order to suppress noise as much as possible, now that they were
approaching the enemy. Cheering and loud talking also were stopped,
and they heard now the heavy beat of footsteps, horses and men, and the
rumble of vehicles, cannon and wagons. The morning was bright and hot.
A haze of heat hung over the mountains, and to Harry the valley was more
beautiful and picturesque than ever. He had again flitting feelings of
melancholy that it should be torn so ruthlessly by war.

If Shepard and other Northern scouts were near, they were lax that
morning. Not a soul in the garrison at Front Royal dreamed of Jackson's
swift approach. They were soon to have a terrible awakening.

Harry saw Jackson raise the visor of his old cap a little, and he saw
the eyes beneath it gleam.

"We must be near Front Royal," he said to Dalton.

"It's just beyond the woods there. It's not more than half a mile away."

The army halted a moment and Jackson sent forward a long line of
skirmishers through the wood. Sherburne's cavalry were to ride just
behind them, and he dispatched Harry and Dalton with the captain. At the
first sound of the firing the whole army would rush upon Front Royal.

The skirmishers, five hundred strong, pressed forward through the wood.
They were sun-browned, eager fellows, every one carrying a rifle, and
all sharpshooters.

It seemed to Harry that the skirmishers were through the wood in
an instant, like a force of Indians bursting from ambush upon an
unsuspecting foe. The Northern pickets were driven in like leaves before
a whirlwind. The rattle and then the crash of rifles beat upon the ears,
and the Southern horsemen were galloping through the streets of the
startled village by the time the