Maryland, as a whole, received Lee coolly. There was no demonstration in his favor. The erstwhile ardent Marylanders did not care to go on record as favoring Lee. For should his invasion fail they were likely thus to find themselves in the unenviable position of the small boy who has prematurely gone to the help of the school bully’s victim. There had been plenty of sympathy for Lee. There was no aid there for him. And Bret Harte’s parody on “Maryland, My Maryland,” was sung derisively throughout the North; a parody beginning: In battle thou art strangely meek, Maryland, my Maryland! Thy politics are changed each week, Maryland, my Maryland! The Army of the Potomac dashed to the defense of the invaded State. As Lee marched out of Frederick, McClellan marched into the town. The hour for the decisive clash drew near; the clash that should once and for all decide the invasion’s fate. In Washington--where the fear of the Union capital’s falling into Lee’s hands was monstrously acute--Abraham Lincoln’s rugged face grew paler and more haggard. To his advisers he announced that he had taken a solemn vow. A vow that, should the invasion be repelled, he would at once issue a proclamation freeing the slaves. Word of this pledge reached Lee through underground channels. And the Southern leader knew the promise would be kept; moreover, that, on the heels of such a repulse, the Emancipation Proclamation would prove well-nigh a death-blow to all hope of the South’s ultimate success. The die was cast. The death duel was at hand. * * * * * Thus stood the situation on the September day that Dad and Battle Jimmie, on borrowed horses, cantered forth from camp and on to the Frederick road. Behind them the far-spread Union camps buzzed and hummed and fermented. Excitement was in every breath of air; excitement and the suspense of stark expectancy. Days would probably pass before the bulk of the Army of the Potomac would be set in motion. But every man knew just what was coming. Every man knew that the next move would bring the rival forces to grips, and under more pregnant circumstances than ever before. Wherefore the vast camp stirred and muttered like waking monsters underseas at the surface turmoil of mounting wave and wind-blown foam-crest that presages storm. Ahead for some distance the road was half-choked with provision trains, ammunition wagons, and baggage carts, through which Dad and the boy threaded their way with no great degree of ease. The fields on either hand were dotted with couriers and returning skirmish-parties taking short cuts back from Frederick, the town whence Lee’s rear guard, under General D. H. Hill, had departed scarce fifteen hours earlier, which had been formerly occupied by the Union vanguard a short time afterward--three hours, in fact.