"Steady!" said Corporal Diggs, in a hoarse whisper, lying flat on the ground behind his tree, the branches of which still trembled from the passage of the ball. Soon a long line of blue coats could be seen on the opposite side of the small stream; fire belched from their guns, and a shower of leaden hail fell among the regiment of Colonel Scrabble. "Steady!" cried the colonel. "Wait for the word." "Steady!" cried the captains and lieutenants. "Oh! Lordy, I'll be killed, I know I shall," wailed poor Diggs, crouching close to the ground. "Aim! Fire!" was the command given on the Confederate side, and their guns returned the leaden storm with effect. The whole line was engaged, and peal followed peal, shot followed shot, thunder-clap followed thunder-clap, while the white smoke rose in canopying folds above the woods. The dead and wounded lay on both sides of the stream. The trees were shattered by the flying balls. The engagement became general. After the first two or three rounds, Corporal Diggs, finding himself as yet unhurt, ventured to peep around the tree. He observed a number of blue coats on the opposite side of the stream and saw a number lying motionless on the ground. Snatching his carbine, he fired, he knew not at whom, because he closed his eyes as his finger pressed the trigger. Then, as if convinced that his shot would turn the tide of battle, he sprang once more behind his tree--to reload. Among the new officers most noted for their daring was Oleah Tompkins, who was everywhere the shots fell thickest, encouraging his men by word and act. Through the flash of guns and clouds of smoke he occasionally caught a glimpse of a familiar form in the enemy's lines. It was a Union captain, upon whose coolness and courage seemed to rest the fortunes of his entire regiment. There was no mistaking that form, he had known it since his earliest recollection. That brave young officer, in an enemy's ranks, had been his playmate in childhood, his companion in boyhood, his schoolmate, his college chum, his constant associate in manhood, and was still his brother. A mist swam before the young Confederate's eyes, as he thought a single chance shot might send that brother into eternity. Little thought had Oleah for himself. He saw his comrades fall about him and heard groan and cry ascend from the blood stained grass, the balls of the enemy whistled about, shattering the tender bark of the trees, but the lieutenant had no thought save of his playmate, companion and brother on the other side of the stream. "Lieutenant Tompkins, you expose yourself needlessly," said Harry Smith, touching his officer on the sleeve. "The other officers do not stand constantly in front." Oleah lowered the field-glass, through which he had been looking at the young captain in blue across the river, and with a sad smile turned toward the speaker. "Harry," he said, "do you know who we are fighting, who those men are across the river?"