Harry and his comrade paused to look at him a few moments. Their spirits had risen when they saw him. They felt that since Lee had come all things were possible and when the whole of the two armies met in battle the victory would surely be theirs. The two rode quietly into the group of staff officers gathered at a little distance behind Lee. They knew that it was not necessary now to make any report or explanation. Events reported for themselves and explained everything also. Their comrades greeted them with nods, but Harry never ceased to watch Lee. The commander-in-chief in his turn was gazing at the panorama of battle, spread almost at his feet. Although the combat was dying, enough was left to give it a terrible aspect. The strife still went on in a part of Gettysburg and cannon were thudding and rifles cracking. The flames from houses set on fire by the shells streamed aloft like vast torches. Horses that had lost their riders galloped aimlessly, wild with terror. While he looked, General Hill rode up and joined them. Hill had been ill that day. His face was deadly in its pallor, and he swayed in his saddle from weakness. But his spirit and courage were high. Harry saw the two generals talking together, and again he glanced at the valley. After long and desperate fighting the Southern victory had been complete. Any young lieutenant could see that. The whole Northern force was now being driven in great disorder upon Cemetery Hill, and a man like Jackson, without going to see Lee, would have hurled his whole force instantly upon those flying masses. Some one had called Ewell and Hill, brave and able as they were, small change for Jackson, and the phrase often came to Harry's mind. Still, it was not possible to find any man or any two men who could fill the place of the great Stonewall. The day was far from over. At least three hours of sunlight were left. More Southern troops had come up, and Harry expected to see Lee launch his superior numbers against the defeated enemy. But he did not. There was some pursuit, but it was not pressed with vigor, and the victors stopped. Contradictory orders were given, it was claimed later, by the generals, but Lee, with the grandeur of soul that places him so high among the immortals, said afterward: "The attack was not pressed that afternoon, because the enemy's force was unknown, and it was considered advisable to await the rest of our troops." When failure occurred he never blamed anyone but himself. Yet Harry always thought that his genius paled a little that afternoon. He did not show the amazing vigor and penetration that were associated with the name of Lee both before and afterwards. Perhaps it was an excess of caution, due to his isolated position in the enemy's country, and perhaps it was the loss of Jackson. Whatever it was, the precious hours passed, the enemy, small in numbers, was not driven from his refuge on Cemetery Hill, and the battle died.