“You're right, Frank, and I've allowed that fact to figure importantly in my reckoning. If it were not for the lost day I'd figure our chance of making the finishing stroke at ninety-five per cent. But boys, it's glorious to be back with you. Once, I thought when we were marching back and forth so much that if I could only lie down and rest for a week or two I'd be the happiest fellow on earth. But it became awful as I lay there, day after day. I had suddenly left the world. All the great events were going on without me. North or South might win, while I lay stretched on a hospital bed. It was beyond endurance. If I hadn't got well so fast that they could let me go, I'd have climbed out of the window with what strength I had, and have made for the army anyhow. Did you ever feel a finer wind than this? What a beautiful country! It must be the most magnificent in the world!” Dick and Pennington laughed. Old George was growing gushy. But they understood that he saw with the eyes of the released prisoner. “It is beautiful,” said Dick, “and it's a pity that it should be ripped up by war. Listen, boys, there's the call that's growing mighty familiar to us all!” Far in front behind the hills they heard the low grumbling of cannon. And further away to the west they heard the same sinister mutter. The Confederates were scattered widely, and the fateful Orders No. 191 might cause their total destruction, but they were on guard, nevertheless. Jackson, foreseeing the possible advance of McClellan, had sent back Hill with a division to help Lee, and to delay the Northern army until he himself should come with all his force. In this desperate crisis of the Confederacy, more desperate than any of the Southern generals yet realized, the brain under the old slouch hat never worked with more precision, clearness and brilliancy. He would not only do his own task, but he would help his chief while doing it. When McClellan began his march after a delay of a day he was nearer to Lee than Jackson was and every chance was his, save those that lightning perception and unyielding courage win. The lads heard the mutter of the cannon grow louder, and rise to a distant thunder. Far ahead of them, where high hills thick with forest rose, they saw smoke and flashes of fire. A young Maryland cavalry officer, riding near, explained to them that the point from which the cannonade came was a gap in South Mountain, although it was as yet invisible, owing to the forest. “We heard that Lee's army was much further away,” said Warner to Dick. “What can it mean? What force is there fighting our vanguard?” It was Shepard, the spy, who brought them the facts. He had already reported to General McClellan, when he approached Colonel Winchester. His face was worn and drawn, and he was black under the eyes. His clothes were covered with dust. His body was weary almost unto death, but his eyes burned with the fire of an undying spirit.