“Hardly. This's on'y like the fust slap in the face in a fight atween two big savage men, who've locked horns ter see which is the best man. Hit's on'y a sorter limberin' the jints fur the death rassel.” “Yes; and what next?” “Well, Rosy's started fur this 'ere place, an' he's bound ter come heah. Bragg's bound he sha'n't come heah, an' is gittin' his men back to defend the town.” “What am I--what are we to do in the meanwhile?” “Ye're ter do nothin', on'y stay in the house ez close ez ye kin, an' wait tell the chance comes ter use ye. Hit may be ter-morrer, an' hit mayn't be fur some days. These army moves are mouty unsartin. Aunt Debby 'll take keer on ye, an' ye 'll not be in a mite o' danger.” “But we'll see you frequently?” “Ez offen ez I kin arrange hit. I'm actin' ez orderly an' messenger 'bout headquarters, but I'll come ter ye whenever I kin git a chance, an' keep ye posted.” This was Friday night. All day Saturday, as long as the light lasted, Rachel stood at the window and watched with sinking heart the steady inflow of the Rebels from the north. That night she and Aunt Debby waited till midnight for Fortner, but he did not come. All day Sunday she stood at her post, and watched the unabated pouring-in on the Nashville pike. Fortner did not come that night. She was downcast, but no shade disturbed the serenity of Aunt Debby's sweet hymning. So it was again on Monday and Tuesday. The continually-swarming multitudes weighed down her spirits like a millstone. She seemed to be encompassed by millions of armed enemies. They appeared more plentiful than the trees, or the rocks, or the leaves even. They filled the streets of the little town until it seemed impossible for another one to find standing room. Their cavalry blackened the faces of the long ranges of hills. Their artillery and wagons streamed along the roads in a never-ending train. Their camp-fires lighted up the country at night for miles, in all directions. Just at dusk Tuesday night Fortner came in, and was warmly welcomed. “There are such countless hosts of the Rebels,” Rachel said to him after the first greetings were over, “that I quite despair of our men being able to do anything with them. It seems impossible that there can be gathered together anywhere else in the world as many men as they have.” “I don't wonder ye think so, but ef ye'd been whar I wuz to-day ye'd think thet all the world wuz marchin' round in blue uniforms. Over heah hit seems ez ef all the cedars on the hills hed suddintly turned inter Rebel soldiers. Three miles from heah the blue-coats are swarmin' thicker'n bees in a field o' buckwheat.” “Three miles from here! Is our army within three miles of here?”