I was still looking at this gentleman, whose fame had extended throughout Virginia and the whole South, when a familiar voice near me, attracted my attention. It was that of Captain Davenant, the young officer of the horse artillery, and glancing in the direction of the voice I saw him bending over a young lady who was seated and conversing with him. She was a girl of seventeen, with blue eyes, auburn hair, and a complexion as fair as a lily. As Davenant addressed her in low tones, she gazed up into his face with an expression of confiding affection. In the eyes of the young officer I could read a profound and ardent love. Turning to my friend I inquired the name of the young lady, in turn. “Miss Virginia Conway,” he replied, “the only sister of Miss Georgia.” He had scarcely uttered the words, when Davenant’s interview with the young lady terminated in a very singular manner. Suddenly Judge Conway passed through the crowd, reached the spot where the young people were conversing, and darting a glance of positive fury at the youth--a glance which made his eyes resemble coals of fire--offered his arm to his daughter, and abruptly bore her away. Davenant’s face flushed crimson, and his eyes darted flame. He took a step as though about to follow--but all at once he stopped. Then from red his face became pale. The old expression of sadness returned to his lips. With head bent down, and a faint color stealing over his cheeks, he went toward the door, and passed though it, and disappeared. Before I had time to reflect upon this singular incident, I heard the voice of Stuart. “Come, Surry! to horse! unless you wish to remain!” he said. “Ready, general!” I replied. And in five minutes we were galloping toward Fleetwood. “A gay ball,” said Stuart, as we rode along; “but do you remember _my instinct_, Surry?” “Perfectly, general. Has it told you something on the present occasion?” “Yes.” “What?” “You have heard of the famous ball at Brussells, broken up by the guns of Waterloo?” “Certainly.” “Well, I think that this one will prove similar--that cannon are going to thunder before the music stops.” Stuart had scarcely spoken when rapid hoof-strokes were heard in front, and a horseman shot by. “Have you seen General Stuart?” said a voice in the darkness. “Here I am--what news, Stringfellow?” The horseman drew rein so suddenly that his horse was thrown upon his haunches. “You will be attacked at daylight, general.” “Well,--what force?” “The whole Yankee cavalry, with infantry and artillery supports.” “All right; ride back with me, and tell me every thing, Stringfellow.” In half an hour we were at head-quarters. Stuart dismounted and entered his tent. “You see I was right, Surry,” he said turning toward me, “and there is something in my _instinct_ after all!” VIII. FLEETWOOD. At daylight a long thunder came up from the woods of the Rappahannock. The greatest cavalry combat of the war had begun.