[Footnote 1: Fact.] The great force of the enemy sweeping down on Stuart’s flank was thus routed. The spectacle which followed was ludicrous as well as exciting. The enemy fled in disorder. Never before had I seen the nails in the hind shoes of hundreds of horses--myriads of horses’ tails streaming like meteors as they ran! The force disappeared in the woods, hotly pursued by their foes. The dust followed them in a great cloud--from that cloud arose yells and cheers--cannon thundered; carbines rattled;--but that sound receded more and more rapidly toward the river. On our left the brave William H.F. Lee had been as successful. He had charged and repulsed the enemy, falling wounded at the head of his men. They had not again advanced upon him. Near the Barbour House he presented an unbroken front to them. Stuart held with his cavalry, indeed, the whole Fleetwood range. The long thunder of his artillery said to the enemy, “Come on!” They did not come. They went back. Their cavalry had crossed the river to ascertain the meaning of the great review. They had discovered nothing, after heavy loss. The ground was strewed with their dead and dying--they retired, shattered and bleeding. Stuart’s loss was also great--even his staff was not spared. One of my brother staff officers was killed, another wounded, a third captured. But Stuart had won the greatest cavalry fight of the war. IX. MOHUN FAINTS AT THE RIGHT MOMENT. In a room of the “Barbour House” on Fleetwood Hill, Stuart was writing a dispatch to General Lee. It was nearly sunset, and the red light was streaming through the windows. On the floor lay a number of wounded men, groaning piteously. Busily attending to their wants were two young girls--the daughters of Judge Conway, whom I had seen on the night of the ball. The young ladies, I afterward discovered, had been on a visit to the family occupying the Barbour House; had courageously remained during the whole of the battle--and they were now busily attending to the wants of the wounded. I was gazing at the eldest--the superb beauty with the disdainful eyes, who had held that wit-combat with her circle of admirers--when Stuart finished his dispatches, and turned around. “Any reports?” he said briefly to a member of his staff. “None, general--except that Colonel Mohun is reported killed.” “Mohun! It is impossible! He drove the enemy, and was unhurt. I would not swap him for a hundred, nor a thousand of the enemy!” “Thank you, general!” said a sonorous voice behind us. And Mohun entered, making the military salute as he did so. In his bearing I could discern the same cool pride, mingled with satire. There was only one change in him. He was paler than ever, and I could see that his right shoulder was bloody. As he entered, Miss Georgia Conway, who was bending over a wounded soldier, raised her head and looked at him. Mohun’s eye met her own, and he bowed ceremoniously, taking no further notice of her.