e finer in Richmond."

Prescott turned his back in so far as a wounded man in that narrow space
could turn, and Harley presently relapsed into silence.

They were yet in the Wilderness, moving among scrub pines, oaks and
cedars, over ground moist with rain and dark with the shadow of the
forest. It was Talbot's wish to keep in the rear of the Southern army
until the way was clear and then turn toward Richmond. But this was not
done with ease, as the Southern army was a shifting quantity, adapting
its movements to those of the North; and Talbot often was compelled to
send scouts abroad, lest he march with his convoy of wounded directly
into the Northern ranks. Once as he rode by the side of Prescott's wagon
he remarked:

"Confound such a place as this Wilderness; I don't think any region ever
better deserved its name. I'll thank the Lord when I get out of it and
see daylight again."

They were then in a dense forest, where the undergrowth was so thick
that they broke a way through it with difficulty. The trees hung down
mournful boughs dripping with recent rain; the wheels of the wagons and
the feet of the horses made a drumming sound in the soft earth; the
forest fire still showed, distant and dim, and a thin mist of ashes came
on the wind at intervals; now and then they heard the low roll of a
cannon, so far away that it seemed but an echo.

Thomas Talbot was usually a cheerful man who shut one eye to grief and
opened the other to joy; but he was full of vigilance to-day and thought
only of duty. Riding at the head of his column, alert for danger, he was
troubled by the uncertainties of the way. It seemed to him that the two
armies were revolving like spokes around a hub, and he never knew which
he was going to encounter, for chance might bring him into the arc of
either. He looked long at the gloomy forest, gazed at the dim fire which
marked the latest battlefield, and became convinced that it was his only
policy to push on and take the risk, though he listened intently for
distant cannon shots and bore away from them.

They stopped about the middle of the afternoon to rest the horses and
serve men and women with scanty food. Prescott felt so strong that he
climbed out of the wagon and stood for a moment beside it. His head was
dizzy at first, but presently it became steady, and he walked to Lucia
Catherwood, who was standing alone by a great oak tree, gazing at the
forest.

She did not notice him until she he