It was Colonel Leonidas Talbot, coming down the trench, and Lieutenant Colonel Hector St. Hilaire was just behind him. The young officers rose and saluted promptly, but they knew there was no reproof in Colonel Talbot's tone. "We had to do it, sir," said Harry respectfully. "Something struck Arthur here, and like a fountain he gushed suddenly into poetry. He had a most wonderful vision of the Elysian fields and of himself wandering through them for a week, knee deep in flowers, and playing the softest of music on a guitar." "He's put that in about the guitar," protested St. Clair. "I never mentioned such a thing, but all the rest is true." "Well, if I had my way," said the colonel, "you should have a guitar, too, if you wanted it, and I like that idea of yours about a week in the Elysian fields. We'll join you there and we'll all walk around among the flowers, and Hector's relative, that wonderful musician, young De Langeais, shall play to us on his violin, and maybe the famous Stonewall will come walking to us through the flowers, and he'll have with him Albert Sidney Johnston, and Turner Ashby and all the great ones that have gone." The colonel stopped, and Harry felt a slight choking in his throat. "In the course of this lull, Leonidas and I had some thought of resuming our unfinished game of chess," said Lieutenant Colonel St. Hilaire, "but the time is really unpropitious and too short. It may be that we shall have to wait until the war is over to conclude the match. The enemy is pressing us hard, and I need not conceal from you lads that he will press us harder tomorrow." "So he will," agreed Colonel Talbot. "There was some heavy and extremely accurate artillery fire from his ranks this afternoon. The way the guns were handled and the remarkable rapidity and precision with which the discharges came convinces me that John Carrington is here in the valley, ready to concentrate all the fire of the Union batteries upon us. It is bad, very bad for us that the greatest artilleryman in the world should come with Sheridan, and yet we shall have the pleasure of seeing how he achieves wonders with the guns. It was in him, even in the old days at West Point, when we were but lads together, and he has shown more than once in this war how the flower that was budding then has come into full bloom." As if in answer to his words the deep boom of a cannon rolled over the hills, and a shell burst near the earthwork. "That, I think, was John talking to us," said Colonel Talbot. "He was saying to us: 'Beware of me, old friends. I'm coming tomorrow, not with one gun but with many!' Well, be it so. We shall give John and Sheridan a warm welcome, and we shall try to make it so very warm that it will prove too hot for them. Now, my lads, there is no immediate duty for you, and if you can sleep, do so. Good-night." They rose and saluted again as the two colonels went back to their own particular place.