I felt the hot blood leap into my face, but I met his stern gaze without flinching. “If I live, General Lee, I shall meet his advance at Bear Fork by daybreak.” “God guide you; I believe you will.” His words seemed uttered unconsciously. He turned slightly, and glanced toward the door. “Major Holmes, will you kindly hand me the draft of that despatch?” He took the paper from the outstretched hand of the aide, read it over slowly and with great care, wrote a word of explanation upon the margin, and then extended it to me. “Commit that, word by word, to your memory; we must run no possible risk of its ever falling into the enemy's hands.” I can see it now, that coarse yellow paper,--the clear, upright penmanship, the words here and there misused and corrected, the sentence scratched out, the heavy underlining of a command, and his own strangely delicate signature at the bottom. _“Headquarters, Army Northern Virginia, “In the field, near Custer House, “Sept. 22, 2 P.M. “Lieut.-Gen'l Longstreet, “Commanding Left Wing. “Sir: You will advance your entire force by the Connelton and Sheffield pikes, so as to reach Castle Rock with your full infantry command by daybreak, September 26th. Let this supersede all other orders. I propose to attack in force in the neighborhood of Sailor's Ford, and shall expect you to advance promptly at the first sound of our artillery. It is absolutely essential that we form prompt connection of forces, and to accomplish this result will require a quick, persistent attack upon your part. You are hereby ordered to throw your troops forward without reserve, permitting them to be halted by no obstacle, until they come into actual touch with my columns. The success or failure of my plans will depend utterly upon your strict observance of these orders._ “R. E. LEE, _“Gen'l Commanding”_ I handed back the paper, and lifted my hand in salute. “You have memorized it?” “Word for word, sir.” “Repeat it to me.” He held the paper before him as I did so, and at the close lifted his eyes again to my face. “Very good,” he said quietly. “Now let there be no mistake; repeat it over to your companion as you proceed until he also has memorized it, and one of you must live long enough to reach Longstreet. I advise you to take the Langley road,--it is the most protected,--and not try to pass beyond the old Coulter plantation until after dark, or you will run the risk of being observed by the enemy's pickets. Beyond this I must leave all to your own discretion.” He paused, and I still lingered, thinking he might have something more to add. “Are you one of the Waynes of Charlottesville?” he asked gravely. “Colonel Richard Wayne was my father, sir.” “Ah, indeed! I remember him well”; and his face lit up with a most tender smile. “We were together in Mexico. A Virginia gentleman of the old school. He is dead, I believe?” “He was killed, sir, the first year of the war.”