Retreat was the only thing, and retreat became rout and panic. It was the arrival of General Johnston, who, having eluded Patterson, had come up with reinforcements that so suddenly turned the tide of battle, making defeat out of almost certain victory. Abner saw his men and horses rolling in the dust from the deadly fire. A score of saddles were emptied at the first volley, and a score of riderless horses dashed back frightened, to spread panic in the rear. No bugle sounded the retreat, there was no need for any. It was vain to attempt to stem the current, for his men had lost all self-control. As Uncle Dan wheeled his horse to follow the flying regiment, he saw Willie Thornbridge sink in his saddle. Reaching out his strong arm, he drew the slight boyish figure before him on his own horse. "Are you hurt, Willie?" the old man asked. The boy made no reply, but the uproar and confusion doubtless drowned the old man's words. He kept steadily on, bearing the slight burden, passing the infantry, the artillery, the baggage and ammunition trains, and on, until he reached the outskirts of the retreating army. "Is he hurt?" asked Abner Tompkins, who had drawn up a portion of his shattered company. "I don't know," said Uncle Dan, "he has not spoken during our entire ride. Can you get down, Willie?" There was no answer. Captain Tompkins sprang from his horse and went to assist the boy. As the old man released his hold, the young soldier fell into the captain's arms and they saw he was dead. Dead without a pang. Dead without a moment's preparation, without one word of endearment or farewell to his lonely and widowed mother. Just behind Willie's left ear was a small, dark-red hole, from which the purple life-blood was still oozing. The small insignificant speck, as it seemed, had opened a door, through which his young soul had taken its everlasting flight. Taking up the corpse, the cavalcade rode sadly on for a few miles, to where the tired Union army, or a portion of it, encamped for the night. Mr. Diggs was in the very height of his patriotism and bravery, when the arrival of the re-enforcements so suddenly changed the tide of battle. "Oh, Lordy! I'll be killed, I know I shall!" he shrieked, and January again turned and fled before the tempest. Taking a course to the left of that pursued by the regular army, Diggs soon found himself on the outskirts of the battle. As he looked over his shoulder, he beheld a powerful cavalryman in full uniform, mounted on a horse black as midnight, in hot pursuit of him. "Oh, Lordy! he'll kill me, I know he will," yelled the miserable Diggs, as he urged January on at the top of his speed. Casting back occasional glances, he saw that the huge black horse was gradually gaining on him.