Stuart’s voice was never cooler. He looked quietly at the huge column cutting off his retreat. “A splendid chance to attack them!” he all at once exclaimed. And tearing a leaf out of his dispatch-book, he wrote a hasty note to General Lee. I afterward knew what it contained. Stuart described his situation, and proposed that Rodes, then near Warrenton, should attack at dawn--when he would open with his artillery, charge with his horsemen, and cut his way out. “A good man in blue uniform now, Gordon.” Gordon sent off an aid, and the man soon appeared. From top to toe he was of irreproachable blue; and he listened keenly to his instructions. Five minutes afterward he had dismounted, given his horse to a comrade, and was stealing on foot through the thicket toward the Federal column. A moment afterward he had mingled with their column and disappeared. Other messengers, also in Federal uniform, were dispatched: the whole force of cavalry was massed, and concealed in the woods: then darkness descended; and the long night of anxiety began. The situation was not agreeable. Stuart was caught in a veritable trap. On both sides--in his rear and his front--were passing heavy corps of Federal infantry; their numerous artillery; and their long-drawn columns of cavalry. Discovery was destruction; the only hope was that the enemy would not suspect our proximity. If we were once known to be lurking there, good-bye to Stuart and his men! So the long night commenced. The hours passed on, and still we were not discovered. It seemed miraculous that some noise did not betray Stuart’s hiding-place; but an Unseen Eye seemed to watch over him, and an Unseen Hand to guard him. More than once the neigh of a horse rang out on the air of night; and two or three times the discordant bray of a mule attached to the artillery startled the silence of the woods. But these sounds were unheeded. They evidently attracted no attention from the enemy. Leaning down in their saddles, the men, half overcome by sleep, but afraid of a rough waking, passed sleepless hours, looking for the dawn. Stuart was never cooler. On his horse, at the head of his men, he betrayed no emotion. You would not have known, except for his subdued tones when speaking to some one, that he and his command were in a veritable “tight place.” Cool and resolute, he was equal to any event. Certain capture or destruction of his whole force was imminent. Thus the night glided away. We had not been discovered. Over the trees was seen the yellow streak of dawn. I looked round. The men’s faces were haggard from want of sleep. But they evidently felt perfect confidence in Stuart. He hastened to justify it. No sooner had light come than he placed his artillery in position. As it grew and broadened, the enemy were seen just on a hill in front of us, busily cooking their breakfasts. Suddenly a single cannon sent its long thunder, dull and reverberating, through the woods, from the direction of Warrenton.