e Confederacy. All that
memorable Fourth of July, following the close of the battle they had lain,
facing Meade and challenging him to come on, confident that while the
invasion of the North was over they could beat back once more the
invasion of the South.

They had no word of complaint against their great commander, Lee.
The faith in him, which was so high, remained unbroken, as it was
destined to remain so to the last. But men began to whisper to one
another, and say if only Jackson had been there. They mourned anew
that terrible evening in the Wilderness when Lee had lost his mighty
lieutenant, his striking arm, the invincible Stonewall. If the man in
the old slouch hat had only been with Lee on Seminary Ridge it would now
be the army of Meade retreating farther into the North, and they would be
pursuing. That belief was destined to sink deep in the soul of the South,
and remain there long after the Confederacy was but a name.

The same thought was often in the mind of Harry Kenton, as he rode near
the rear of the column, whence he had been sent by Lee to observe and
then to report. It was far after midnight now, and the last of the
Southern army could not leave Seminary Ridge before morning. But Harry
could detect no sign of pursuit. Now and then, a distant gun boomed,
and the thunder muttered on the horizon, as if in answer. But there
was nothing to indicate that the Army of the Potomac was moving from
Gettysburg in pursuit, although the President in Washington, his heart
filled with bitterness, was vainly asking why his army would not reap the
fruits of a victory won so hardly. Fifty thousand men had fallen on the
hills and in the valleys about Gettysburg, and it seemed, for the time,
that nothing would come of such a slaughter. But the Northern army had
suffered immense losses, and Lee and his men were ready to fight again
if attacked. Perhaps it was wiser to remain content upon the field with
their sanguinary success. At least, Meade and his generals thought so.

Harry, toward morning came upon St. Clair and Langdon riding together.
Both had been wounded slightly, but their hurts had not kept them from
the saddle, and they were in cheerful mood.

"You've been further back than we, Harry," said St. Clair. "Is Meade hot
upon our track? We hear the throb of a cannon now and then."

"It doesn't mean anything. Meade hasn't moved. While we didn't win we
struck the Yankees such a mighty blow that