They were moving forward past the front of the house, the men still on foot, gripping the leather at their horses' bits, the restive animals plunging so wildly as to make it seem more the advance of a mob than a disciplined body. A shell exploded in the road to their left, tearing a hole in the white pike, and showering them with stones. I could see bleeding faces where the flying gravel cut. Another shrieked above, and came to earth just in front of the house, shattering the front steps into fragments, and leaving one of the wooden pillars hanging, unsupported. Yet with no halt or hesitancy, the gray mass moved slowly across the lawn, and then deliberately formed in line beneath the trees of the orchard. Their horses were led to the rear, and the men fell into rank at the sharp command of officers. Facing as they did I was left in doubt as to their purpose. Just inside the gate a battalion of infantry stood at parade rest, some of Johnston's men, I judged from their appearance, who had held together. Beyond them a little group of horsemen had reined up on a knoll, and seemed to be studying the surrounding country through field glasses. I could see the glitter of them in the sun. Straight across the grass from the line of dismounted cavalry an officer rode, galloping through the dust of the pike, and trotting up the incline until he reached this distant group. I watched curiously as he pointed toward the house, and the others turned and looked. I could dimly distinguish features, and realized the meaning of some of their gestures. Then the cavalry-man turned his horse, and came trotting back. But now he rode directly up the gravelled driveway to the front of the house, a white rag flapping from the point of his uplifted sword. Thirty feet away he pulled up his horse, his eyes searching the house, and I stepped out on the porch roof. The broken pillar made me afraid to venture to the edge, but we were plainly in view of each other. "Are you the Yank in command?" he asked brusquely, staring up at me. "Yes." He removed the rag from his sword, and thrust the weapon into its scabbard. "What force have you?" I smiled, amused at his display of nerve. "You will have to come in to discover that, my friend." His naturally florid face reddened with anger. "I'm not here to joke," he retorted. "General Chambers wishes me to offer you a last opportunity to surrender without bloodshed." "And if I refuse?" "We shall attack at once, sir," haughtily. "A glance about will show you the helplessness of your position."