It is with heartfelt satisfaction that the commanding general announces
to his army that the operations of the last three days have determined
that our enemy must either ingloriously fly or come out from behind
his defences, and give us battle on our own ground, where certain
destruction awaits him.

Hooker, it can be said again, had cause for exultation. He was closing
in with more than a hundred thousand stern fighters, and ten thousand
splendid cavalrymen under Stoneman were hanging on the Southern flank,
ready to cut off retreat. Besides, there were reserves, and he could
also join to the artillery the great batteries on Stafford Heights,
on the left bank of the river, which had done such good service for
the Army of the Potomac. He could go into action with men and guns
outnumbering his enemy more than two to one, and Lee and Jackson would
have no such hills and intrenchments as those which had protected them
while they cut down the army of Burnside at Fredericksburg.

Harry and his young comrades were lost in the mists and doubts of
uncertainty. Nothing could shake their confidence in Lee and Jackson,
but yet they were only human beings. Had the time come when there was
more to be done than any men, great and brilliant as they might be,
could do? Yet they refused to express their apprehensions to one
another, and waited, their hearts now and then beating heavily.

Thus the last day of April passed, and for Harry it was more fully
surcharged with suspense and anxiety than any other that he had yet
known. The forests and the fields were flush with the green of early
spring. Little wild flowers were peeping up in the thickets, and now
and then a bird, full throated, sang on a bough, indifferent to passing
armies.

But Harry saw a red tint over everything. The spirit of his great
ancestor had descended upon him again. The acute sense which warned him
of mighty and tragic events soon to come was alive and active. His mind
traveled backward too. Sometimes he did not see the men around him,
but saw instead Pendleton, the boys playing in the fields, and his
father. He also saw again that log house in the Kentucky mountains,
and the old, old woman who had known his great-grandfather, Henry Ware.
Once more he heard like a whisper in his ears her parting words: "You
will come again, and you will be thin and pale and in rags, and you will
fall at the door. I see you coming with these two eyes of mine."