“I remember; it was at Antietam. And your mother? If my memory is not at fault she was a Pierpont?” “She is now in Richmond, sir, and the old plantation is but a ruin.” “War is indeed sad,” he said slowly; “and I often feel that our Southern women are compelled to bear the brunt of it. What heroines they have proven! History records no equal to the daily sacrifices I have witnessed in the past three years. God grant it may be soon ended.” Then, as if suddenly moved by the impulse of the moment, he again extended his hand. “Well, lad,” he said kindly, the same grave smile lighting his face, “our country needs us. We must not waste time here in conversation. I am very glad to have been permitted to meet the son of my old friend, and trust you will remember me to your mother. But now good-bye, Captain, and may He in whose hand we all are guide and guard you. I know that a Wayne of Virginia will always do his duty.” Bareheaded and with proudly swelling heart I backed out of the tent as I might have left the throne-room of an emperor, but as I grasped the reins and swung up into saddle, I became conscious that he had followed me. Craig flung up his hand in quick, soldierly salute, and then, with a single rapid stride, the General stood at his horse's head. “Sergeant,” he said,--and I was struck by the incisive military tone of his voice, so different from the gentleness shown within,--“I am informed that you are intimately acquainted with the roads to the westward.” “Every bridle-path, sir, either by night or day.” “Then possibly you can inform me whether the Big Hickory is fordable at Deer Gap.” “Not for infantry at high water, sir; but there is another ford two miles north where it is never over waist deep.” “That would be at Brixton's Mill?” “No, sir; the other way.” Lee smiled, and rested his hand almost caressingly on the trooper's knee. “You are a valuable man for us to risk on such a ride,” he said kindly. “But I desire you to understand, Sergeant, how deeply I value the service you are about to render, and that I shall never permit it to be forgotten or go unrewarded. And now, good-night, Sergeant; good-night, Captain Wayne.” As we turned into the main road, riding slowly, I glanced backward. The General was yet standing there in front of his tent, gazing after us, the rays of the westering sun gleaming on his gray hair. CHAPTER II THE NIGHT RIDE By five o'clock we were safe at Colchester, and while our horses rested and refreshed themselves on some confiscated grain, the two of us lay lazily back on a grassy knoll, well within the shadow of a ruined wall, and watched the round, red sun drop slowly down behind those western hills we had to climb.