“Lieutenant Kenton, do you and Lieutenant Dalton ride forward in that direction and meet General Ewell. He is coming, with his staff, to see me. Escort him to the camp.” He pointed out the direction and in an instant Harry and Dalton, also of the staff, were in the camp, following the line of that pointing finger. They had the password and as they passed a little beyond the pickets they saw a half dozen horsemen riding rapidly toward them in the dusk. “General Ewell, is it not, sir?” said Harry, as he and Dalton gave the salute. “I'm General Ewell,” replied the foremost horseman. “Do you come from General Jackson?” “Yes, sir. His camp is just before you. You can see the lights now. He has directed us to meet you and escort you.” “Then lead the way.” The two young lieutenants, guiding General Ewell and his staff, were soon inside Jackson's camp, but Harry had time to observe Ewell well. He had already heard of him as a man of great vigor and daring. He had made a name for judgment and dash in the Indian wars on the border. Men spoke of him as a soldier, prompt to obey his superior and ready to take responsibility if his superior were not there. Harry knew that Jackson expected much of him. He saw a rather slender man with wonderfully bright eyes that smiled much, a prominent and pronounced nose and a strong chin. When he took off his hat at the meeting with Jackson he disclosed a round bald head, which he held on one side when he talked. Jackson had risen from the log as Ewell rode up and leaped from his magnificent horse--his horses were always of the best--and he advanced, stretching out his hand. Ewell clasped it and the two talked. The staffs of the two generals had withdrawn out of ear shot, but Harry noticed that Ewell did much the greater part of the talking, his head cocked on one side in that queer, striking manner. But Harry knew, too, that the mind and will of Jackson were dominant, and that Ewell readily acknowledged them as so. The conference did not last long. Then the two generals shook hands again and Ewell sprang upon his horse. Jackson beckoned to Harry. “Lieutenant Kenton,” he said, “ride with General Ewell to his camp. You will then know the way well, and he may wish to send me some quick dispatch.” Harry, nothing loath, was in the saddle in an instant, and at the wish of General Ewell rode by his side. “You have been with him long?” said Ewell. “From the beginning of the campaign here, sir.” “Then you were at both Kernstown and McDowell. A great general, young man.” “Yes, sir. He will march anywhere and fight anything.” “That's my own impression. We've heard that his men are the greatest marchers in the world. My own lads under him will acquire the same merit.” “We know, sir, that your men are good marchers already.” General Ewell laughed with satisfaction.