the Rebellion put down at a single
blow. The road became a mass of neighing, plunging horses, broken and
tangled wagons, ambulances and riderless artillery teams. Horses neighed
in terror more abject than that which filled the hearts of men. Men
once had reason--the poor horse had never claimed it. The blockades on
the road formed no barrier to the flying men on foot. They streamed
around and overflowed into the woods and fields and pressed on with new
terror. God in Heaven! They pitied the poor fools engulfed in those
masses of maddened plunging brutes and smashing wagons. It was only a
question of a few minutes when Stuart's sabres would split every skull.

John Vaughan was swept to the rear on the crest of this wave of terror.
Up to the moment it began he had scarcely thought of danger. After the
first few minutes of nerve tension under fire his spirit had risen as
the combat raged and deepened. It didn't seem real, the falling of men
around him. He had no time to realize that they were being torn to
pieces by shot and shell and the hail of lead that whistled from those
long sheets of flaming smoke-banks before him.

And then the panic had seized him. He had caught its mad unreasoning
terror from the men who surged about him. And it was every man for
himself. The change was swift, abject, complete from utter
unconsciousness of fear to the blindest terror. Some ran mechanically,
with their eyes set in front as if stiff with fear, expecting each
moment to be struck dead, knowing it was useless to try but going on and
on because involuntary muscles were carrying them.

A fat man caught hold of John's coat and held on for half a mile before
he could shake him off. He begged piteously for help.

"Don't leave me, partner!" he panted. "I'm a sinful man. I ain't fit to
die. You're young and strong--save me!"

The dead weight was pulling him down and John shook the fellow off with
an angry jerk.

"To hell with you!"

They suddenly came to a lot of horses hid in the woods, rearing and
plunging and neighing madly.

John swerved out of their way and an officer rushed up to him crying:

"Why don't you take a horse?"

He looked at him in a dazed way before he could realize his meaning.

"Take a horse!" he yelled. "The rebels will get 'em if you don't----"

The men were too intent on running to try to save horses. Horses would
have to look out for themselves.

It suddenly occurred to John that a horse might go faster