ed, and all the
more fierce because it was so like the ferocious whine of a powerful and
hurt wild animal. Swearing was common enough among the older men of the
South, even among the educated, but Colonel Woodville now surpassed them
all.

Dick heard oaths, ripe and rich, entirely new to him, and he heard the
old ones in new arrangements and with new inflections. And yet there was
no blasphemy about it. It seemed a part of time and place, and, what was
more, it seemed natural coming from the lips of the old colonel.

They reached the door, the cut in the side of the ravine, and at once a
wide portion of the battlefield sprang into the light, while the roar
of the guns was redoubled. Dick would have stepped back now, but Colonel
Woodville's hand rested on his shoulder and his support was needed.

"My glasses, Margaret!" said the colonel. "I must see! I will see! If
I am but an old hound, lying here while the pack is in full cry, I will
nevertheless see the chase! And even if I am an old hound I could run
with the best of them if that infernal Yankee bullet had not taken me in
the leg!"

Miss Woodville brought him the glasses, a powerful pair, and he glued
them instantly to his eyes. Dick saw only the field of battle, dark
lines and blurs, the red flare of cannon and rifle fire, and towers and
banks of smoke, but the colonel saw individual human beings, and, with
his trained military eye, he knew what the movements meant. Dick felt
the hand upon his shoulder trembling with excitement. He was excited
himself. Miss Woodville stood just behind them, and a faint tinge of
color appeared in her pale face.

"The Yankees are getting ready to charge," said the colonel. "At the
point we see they will not yet rush forward. They will, of course, wait
for a preconcerted signal, and then their whole army will attack at
once. But the woods and ravines are filled with their skirmishers,
trying to clear the way. I can see them in hundreds and hundreds, and
their rifles make sheets of flame. All the time the cannon are firing
over their heads. Heavens, what a bombardment! I've never before
listened to its like!"

"What are our troops doing, father?" asked Miss Woodville.

"Very little yet, and they should do little. Pemberton is showing more
judgment than I expected of him. The defense should hold its fire until
the enemy is well within range and that's what we're doing!"

The colonel leaned a little more heavily upon him, but Dic