When night came at last, on this day of battles, I was wearied out with the incessant riding on staff duty; but I remembered my promise; again mounted my horse; and set out for “Five Forks,” where, in any event, I was sure of a warm welcome. Pushing on over the White Oak road, I turned southward at Five Forks, and riding on toward Judge Conway’s, had just reached the road coming in from Dinwiddie Court-House, when I heard a cavalier approaching from that quarter, at a rapid gallop. He was darting by, toward Five Forks, when by the starlight I recognized Mohun. “Halt!” I shouted. He knew my voice, and drew rein with an exclamation of pleasure. “Thanks, my dear old friend,” he said, grasping my hand. “I knew you would not fail me.” “Your wedding will take place, Mohun?” “Yes, battle or no battle.” “You are right. Life is uncertain. You will hear cannon instead of marriage-bells probably, at your nuptials--but that will be inspiring. What is the news from the Court-House?” “Our infantry is falling back.” “The condition of the roads stopped them?” “Yes, it was impossible to get on; and they have been recalled by order of General Lee. Listen! There is the column coming--they are falling back to Five Forks, a mile north of Judge Conway’s.” In fact, as we rode on now, I heard the muffled tramp of a column, and the rattle of artillery chains in the woods. “The enemy will follow, I suppose?” “Not before morning, I hope.” I smiled. “Meanwhile you are making good use of the time to get married. What will you do with Miss Georgia?” “You mean Mrs. Mohun, Surry!” he said, smiling. “Yes.” “Well, she will be sent off--her father will take the whole family to Petersburg in the morning, to avoid the battle which will probably take place in this vicinity to-morrow.” “You are right. I predict a thundering fight here, in the morning.” “Which I hope I shall not balk in, my dear Surry,” said Mohun, smiling. “Is there any danger of that?” “I really don’t know. It is not good for a soldier to be too happy. It makes him shrink from bullets, and raises visions of a young widow, in mourning, bending over a tomb.” “Pshaw! stop that folly!” I said. “Is it possible that a stout-hearted cavalier like General Mohun can indulge in such apprehensions--and at a moment as happy as this?”