“And they say Ewell’s going toward the Valley—” To right and left there sprang a rustling. The sun strengthened, the mist began to lift, a number of bugles blared together. Into the very atmosphere sifted something like golden laughter. A shout arose—_Jeb Stuart! Jeb Stuart! Jeb Stuart!_ Out of the misty forest, borne high, a vivid square in the sea of pearl, came a large battle-flag. Crimson and blue and thirteen-starred, forth it paced, held high by the mounted standard bearer. The horse artillery saluted as it went by, going on to a sentinelled strip of greensward where stood three ancient and weather-beaten tents. Here it was planted, and here in the June wind it streamed outward so that every star might be seen. The mist yet held on the farther side of the plain, but all the nearer edge was growing light and sunny. The bugles rang. _Jeb Stuart! Jeb Stuart!_ shouted the plain above Culpeper. Stuart, followed by his staff, trotted from the forest. He wore his fighting jacket and his hat with the plume, he was magnificently mounted, he stroked his wonderful, sunny beard, and he laughed with his wonderful, sunny, blue eyes. He had more _verve_ than any leader in that army; he was brave as Ney; the army adored him! The victory of Chancellorsville was his victory no less than it was that of Stonewall Jackson and of Robert Lee. All knew it, and the victory was but five short weeks ago. The glory of the great fight hung about him like a golden haze, a haze that magnified, and yet that, perhaps, did not magnify overmuch, for he was a noble cavalry leader. Suddenly,— “_Old Joe Hooker, won’t you come out of the Wilderness?_” chanted the hosts about him. He lifted his hat. The horse, that had about his arching neck a great wreath of syringa and roses, pranced on to the colours and stopped. Staff drew up, bugles blew, there came a sound of drum and fife, mist began rapidly to lift. “Oh,” breathed Horse Artillery, getting into place, “most things have a compensatory side!” From the misty middle of the plain came with tramp and jingle another mounted party. One rode ahead on a grey horse. Noble of form and noble of face, simple and courteous, he came up to the great flag and grandeur came with him. _General Lee! General Lee!_ shouted Cavalry, shouted Horse Artillery. Stuart, who had dismounted, came forward, saluting. “Ah, General,” said Lee. “I am going to review you with much pleasure, and I have taken you at your word and brought with me some of my friends.” Stuart beamed upon Longstreet, commander of the First Corps, and upon several division generals. “Oh, I have brought more than these!” said Lee. “Look how the sun is drinking up the mist!”