he general took no
notice. He kept his glasses to his eyes and watched every movement of
the enemy, when the fog lifted enough for him to see. Presently he
beckoned to Harry.

"Ride over to General Stuart," he said, "and see if he has made any
change in his lines. It is important that our formation be preserved
intact and that no gaps be left."

Then General Jackson himself rode to another elevation for a different
view, and the soldiers, from whom he had been hidden before by the fog,
gazed at him in amazement. The gorgeous uniform that Stuart had sent
him, worn only once before, and which they had thought discarded forever,
had been put on again. The old slouch hat was gone, and another,
magnificent with gold braid, looped and tasseled, was in its place.
Instead of the faithful pony, Little Sorrel, he rode a big charger.

Usually cheers ran along the line whenever he appeared upon the eve of
battle, but for a little space there was silence as the men gazed at him,
many of them not even knowing him. Jackson flushed and looked down
apologetically at the rich cloth and gold braid he wore. His eyes
seemed to say, "Boys, I've merely put these on in honor of the victory
we're going to win. But I won't do it again."

Then the cheers burst forth, spontaneous and ringing, proving a devotion
that few men have ever been able to command. Stern and unflinching as
Jackson invariably was in inflicting punishment, his soldiers always
regarded him as one of themselves, the best man among them, one fitted
by nature to lead democratic equals. After the cheers were over they
watched him as he looked through the glasses from his new position.
But he stayed there only a minute or two, going back then to his old
point of vantage.

Harry meanwhile had reached Stuart, who, mounted upon a magnificent
horse and clad in a uniform that fairly glittered through the fog itself,
was waiting restlessly. But he had not changed any part of his line.
Everything remained exactly as Jackson had ordered. He now knew Harry
well and always called him by his first name.

"Have you an order?" he exclaimed eagerly. "Does General Jackson want
us to advance?"

"He has said nothing about an advance," replied Harry tactfully.
"He merely wanted me to ride down the line and report to him on the
spirit of the soldiers as far as I could judge. He knew that your men,
General, would be hard to hold."

Stuart threw back his head, shook his long yel