egiments were
driven back in disorder and their cavalry sweeping down to protect them,
were met by such a sleet of bullets that they, too, were driven back.

Now all the Southern regiments came up. Infantry, cavalry and artillery
crossed the creek and the ridges and formed in a solid line which
nothing could resist. The enemy, carrying away what cannon he could, was
driven swiftly before them. The rebel yell, wild and triumphant, swelled
from ten thousand throats as Jackson's army rushed forward, pursuing the
enemy into Winchester.

Harry was shouting with the rest. He couldn't help it. The sober Dalton
had snatched off his cap, and he, too, was shouting. Then Harry saw
Jackson himself giving way to exultation, for the first time. He was
back at Winchester which he loved so well, he had defeated the enemy
before it, and now he was about to chase him through its streets. He
spurred his horse at full speed down a rocky hill, snatched off his cap,
whirled it around his head and cried at the top of his voice again and
again:

"Chase them to the Potomac! Chase them to the Potomac!"

Harry and Dalton, hearing the cry, took it up and shouted it, too.
Before them was a vast bank of smoke and dust, shot with fire, and the
battle thundered as it rolled swiftly into Winchester. The Northern
officers, still strove to prevent a rout. They performed prodigies of
valor. Many of them fell, but the others, undaunted, still cried to the
men to turn and beat off the foe.

Winchester suddenly shot up from the dust and smoke. The battle went on
in the town more fiercely than ever. Torrents of shell and bullets swept
the narrow streets, but many of the women did not hesitate to appear at
the windows and shout amid all the turmoil and roar of battle cheers and
praise for those whom they considered their deliverers. Over all rose
the roar and flame of a vast conflagration where Banks had set his
storehouses on fire, but the women cheered all the more when they saw
it.

Harry did his best to keep up with his general, but Jackson still seemed
to be aflame with excitement. He was in the very front of the attack and
he cried to his men incessantly to push on. It was not enough to take
Winchester. They must follow the beaten army to the Potomac.

Harry had a vision of flame-swept streets, of the whizzing of bullets
and shell, of men crowded thick between the houses, and of the faces of
women at windows, handkerchiefs and veils in their hand