arkest, but dawn was not far away. Fugitive gusts of wind
drenched him once more, but he did not mind it, nor did he pay any
attention to the occasional growl of a distant gun. He was strong in the
belief that Meade would not pursue--at least not yet. A general who had
just lost nearly one-third of his own army was not in much condition to
follow his enemy.

He urged his horse to increased speed, and pressed on toward the head of
the column. The rain ceased and cool puffs of wind came out of the east.
Then the blackness there turned to gray, which soon deepened into silver.
Through the silver veil shot a bolt of red fire, and the sun came over
the hills.

Although the green world had been touched with brown by the hot sun of
July it looked fresh and beautiful to Harry. The brown in the morning
sunlight was a rosy red, and the winds of dawn were charged with life.
His horse, too, felt the change and it was easy now to force him into a
gallop toward a fire on a low hill, which Harry felt sure had been built
to cook breakfast for their great commander.

As he approached he saw Lee and his generals standing before the blaze,
some eating, and others drinking. An orderly, near by, held the
commander's famous horse, Traveller, and two or three horses belonging to
the other generals were trying to find a little grass between the stony
outcrops of the hills. Harry felt an overwhelming curiosity, but he kept
it in restraint, dismounting at a little distance, and approaching on
foot.

He could not observe much change in the general's appearance. His
handsome gray suit was as neat as ever, and the three stars, the only
marks of his rank that he wore, shone untarnished upon his collar.
The dignified and cheerful manner that marked him before Gettysburg
marked him also afterward. To Harry, so young and so thoroughly charged
with the emotions of his time and section, he was a figure to be
approached with veneration.

He saw the stalwart and bearded Longstreet and other generals whom he
knew, among them the brilliant Stuart in his brilliant plumage, but
rather quiet and subdued in manner now, since he had not come to
Gettysburg as soon as he was needed. Harry hung back a little, fearing
lest he might be regarded as thrusting himself into a company so much
his superior in rank, but Lee saw him and beckoned to him.

"I sent you back toward Gettysburg to report on our withdrawal,
Lieutenant Kenton," he said.

"Yes, sir.