It was a grand sight to Louis. On all sides of him lay the Confederate capital, hemmed in with fortifications and swarming with soldiers like ants around some gigantic ant-hill. Here was a single company, there a regiment, and over yonder an entire division, with tents and wagons innumerable. From the fortifications frowned the batteries, and Louis could distinctly see the gunners standing ready for immediate service and the officers moving around, giving orders and inspecting the various headquarters. In one section of the great field a regiment was out on drill, its men marching and counter-marching in splendid order, with bayonets sparkling in the light of the fading sun. “Tough job to get in here, eh?” said Robert Dowling, briefly. Louis drew a long breath. “Indeed it will be. Do you really think General McClellan can do it?” “If General McDowell’s troops come down, yes. If they don’t--” The man did not finish. “Come down, if you have seen enough.” “In a minute.” Louis turned the field glass to the northeast. “Our troops have their balloon up,” he cried. “They are taking observations.” “That balloon makes the Southerners awfully mad,” said Robert Dowling, with a laugh. “Time and again they have tried to shoot it full of holes. But come, or somebody on another roof may see you and grow suspicious.” They went below again, and now the man brought forth the faded Confederate cap he had promised Louis. It made the youth feel queer to put it on. “Seems like I was insulting myself,” he explained, at which his host smiled broadly. “You’ll get used to it. Now, remember, if you are asked any questions, that you belong to Company A, Second North Carolina Troops, Brigadier-General Anderson commanding, under General Hill, and that you are looking for your company somewhere down the Williamsburg road, and that you lost your regular army clothing during a skirmish in the swamps. That will carry you outside of Richmond and when you get near the picket lines you must take care of yourself as seems best. My advice is, don’t move until it’s dark.” “Just what I was thinking,” answered Louis, and repeated the name of the organization to which he was supposed to belong, that he might get it right. Soon after this he was bidding his kind host and hostess good-bye, having previously given his word that come what might, he would not reveal what he had heard in the barn during the night previous. He left the garden by a back gate, and with a heart that beat rapidly hurried along the street to where one of the main thoroughfares led out of Richmond to the Williamsburg turnpike. At first he imagined everybody was looking at him and suspecting him, but this soon wore away and he continued on with greater confidence. He had no gun, but in his pocket was the pistol which he had picked up in the store, now fully loaded.