heard the enemy's alarm-guns, and directly the
signal flags were waving up and down our front.

The General appeared directly over the edge of the car. He was tossing
his hands frightenedly, and shouting something that we could not
comprehend.

"O--pen--the--valve!" called Lowe, in his shrill tones;
"climb--to--the--netting--and--reach--the--valve--rope."

"The valve!--the valve!" repeated a multitude of tongues, and all gazed
with thrilling interest at the retreating hulk that still kept straight
upward, swerving neither to the east nor the west.

It was a weird spectacle,--that frail, fading oval, gliding against the
sky, floating in the serene azure, the little vessel swinging silently
beneath, and a hundred thousand martial men watching the loss of their
brother in arms, but powerless to relieve or recover him. Had Fitz John
Porter been drifting down the rapids of Niagara, he could not have been
so far from human assistance. But we saw him directly, no bigger than a
child's toy, clambering up the netting and reaching for the cord.

"He can't do it," muttered a man beside me; "the wind blows the
valve-rope to and fro, and only a spry, cool-headed fellow can catch
it."

We saw the General descend, and appearing again over the edge of the
basket, he seemed to be motioning to the breathless hordes below, the
story of his failure. Then he dropped out of sight, and when we next saw
him, he was reconnoitring the Confederate works through a long black
spy-glass. A great laugh went up and down the lines as this cool
procedure was observed, and then a cheer of applause ran from group to
group. For a moment it was doubtful that the balloon would float in
either direction; it seemed to falter, like an irresolute being, and
moved reluctantly southeastward, towards Fortress Monroe. A huzza, half
uttered, quivered on every lip. All eyes glistened, and some were dim
with tears of joy. But the wayward canvas now turned due westward, and
was blown rapidly toward the Confederate works. Its course was fitfully
direct, and the wind seemed to veer often, as if contrary currents,
conscious of the opportunity, were struggling for the possession of the
daring navigator. The south wind held mastery for awhile, and the
balloon passed the Federal front amid a howl of despair from the
soldiery. It kept right on, over sharpshooters, rifle-pits, and
outworks, and finally passed, as if to deliver up its freight, directly
over the heights of