across the river, and Stuart did not consider it wise to follow.
Each side had lost heavily. Pleasanton had not only struck a hard blow,
but he had learned where Lee's army lay, and, moreover, he had shown
the horsemen of the South that those of the North were on the watch.

It was late in the afternoon when the last Northern rider crossed the
Rappahannock, and Harry looked upon a field strewn with the fallen,
both men and horses. Then he turned to Sherburne and bound up his
wounded shoulder for him. The hurt was not serious, but Sherburne,
although they had driven off the Northern horse, was far from sanguine.

"It's a Pyrrhic victory," he said. "We had the superior numbers,
and it was all we could do to beat them back. Besides, they surprised
us, when we thought we had a patent on that sort of business."

"It's so," said Harry, his somber glance passing again over the field.

Their feeling was communicated, too, to the advancing masses of
infantry. The soldiers, when they saw the stricken field and began
to hear details from their brethren of the horse, shook their heads.
There was no joy of victory in the Southern army that night. The enemy,
when he was least expected, had struck hard and was away.

Harry rode to General Lee and gave him as many details as he could
of the cavalry battle, to all of which the general listened without
comment. He had reports from others also, and soon he dismissed Harry,
who took up his usual night quarters with his blankets under a green
tree. Here he found Dalton, who was eager to hear more.

"They say that the Yankees, although inferior in numbers, pushed us hard,
Harry; is it so?" he asked.

"It is, and they caught us napping, too. George, I'm beginning to
wonder what's waiting for us there in the North."

It was dark now and he gazed toward the North, where the stars already
twinkled serenely in the sky. It seemed to him that their army was
about to enter some vast, illimitable space, swarming with unknown
enemies. He felt for a little while a deep depression. But it was
partly physical. His exertions of the day had been tremendous, and the
intense excitement, too, had almost overcome him. The watchful Dalton
noticed his condition, and wisely said nothing, allowing his pulses to
regain their normal beat.

It was nearly an hour before his nerves became quiet, and then he sank
into a heavy sleep. In the morning youth had reasserted itself, both
physically an