At first Mrs. Arlington could not think of it. But then came a short letter from the Rockfords, telling of the accident which had happened to Mr. Rockford and that Louis had joined a volunteer company. The letter was written by Lucy, who said Louis was too busy to do more than ask to be remembered to Andy and Grace, and Lucy added that she supposed Andy would soon be on his way to fight against her brother. The letter was very friendly and closed by hoping that the present difficulty would soon be settled. This was the last letter which passed between the families for a long while to come. “You see how it is,” said Andy, as he handed the letter to his mother after perusing it. “Even the Rockfords think I will go. How can you make me stand back in the face of that? Why don’t you let me show that I am at least as brave as Louis?” This was Andy’s clinching argument. Mrs. Arlington’s Southern pride would not permit her to keep her son at home when the son of her Northern friend was already off to the seat of war. She consented that night, and Andy enrolled under Captain Montgomery the next day. The cavalry was called Montgomery’s Grays, and each trooper was required to clothe himself in gray suit of a certain design, with a plumed hat to match. At first it was thought to seat every man on a gray horse, but this was found impossible in the short space of time allowed for equipment, and the cavalrymen rode such animals as they possessed. The seat of government for the States which had seceded was soon to be at Richmond, but the Confederate forces were gathering at Manassas Junction, a place about thirty-five miles west of Washington, and an important point from the fact that two of the principal Southern railroads met there. It was this gathering at Manassas that made Northern people think an attack on Washington was close at hand. Soon came the day for Andy to leave home. Lee Run was gaily decorated--as much so as Goreville had been when Louis left. There were flags and bunting in abundance, but the glorious stars and stripes were missing. Instead the State flag was unfurled, for the stars and bars and other emblems of the Confederacy had not yet come into use. The cavalry made an imposing appearance as they moved off four abreast, the horses prancing gaily to the trumpet notes of the bugler. Shout after shout went up, which continued until the Montgomery Grays were lost to sight in a cloud of dust half a mile from the town center. “I’m glad we’re off,” remarked one of the young men to Andy as they cantered along. “I’ve been itching to get at the Yankees ever since the trouble began.” The young man’s name was Leroy Wellington. His father’s plantation adjoined that of the Arlingtons, and both youths were on the best of terms. Leroy had traveled much, and a rough, outdoor life just suited him.