“We are afraid the horses might take fright and run away,” we answered. I shall never forget his ringing laugh. Our lean and spiritless steeds had too little life in them to run for anything--they hardly pricked up their ears when the guns went off. How well I remember Stuart as he looked that day! He wore a fine new uniform, brilliant with gold lace, buff gauntlets reaching to his elbows, and a canary-colored silk sash with tasseled ends. His hat, a soft, broad-brimmed felt, was caught up at the side with a gold star and carried a sweeping plume; his high, patent-leather cavalry boots were trimmed with gold. He wore spurs of solid gold, the gift of some Maryland ladies--he was very proud of those spurs--and his horse was coal black and glossy as silk. And how happy he was--how full of faith in the Confederacy and himself! My own cavalry officer was there, resplendent in his new uniform--I had had it made up for him in Richmond. Dan was very proud of the way I got that uniform. He was almost ready to credit himself with having put me up to running the blockade! He told General Stuart its history, and that is how a greatness not always easy to sustain had been thrust upon me. General Stuart thought me very brave--or said he thought so. The maneuvers of Dan’s command were on such a distant part of the field that I could not see him well with the naked eye, and General Stuart lent me his field-glasses. The next morning, just as gray dawn was breaking, some one called under my window, and gravel rattled against the pane. I got up and looked out sleepily. My first thought was that it might be Dan. There was not enough light for me to see very well what was happening on the lawn, but I could make out that the cavalry were mounted and moving, and under my window I saw a figure on horseback. “Is that Mrs. Grey?” “Yes. What is the matter?” “General Stuart sent me for his field-glasses. I am sorry to disturb you, but it couldn’t be helped.” I tied a string around the glasses and lowered them. “What’s the matter? Where is the cavalry going?” “To Brandy Station. Reckon we’ll have some hot fighting soon,” and the orderly wheeled and rode away. I stayed up and dressed, and thought of Dan, and wished I could know if he was to be in the coming engagement, and that I could see him first. But I didn’t see him all day. CHAPTER XX “WHOSE BUSINESS ’TIS TO DIE” In forty-eight hours we knew that the surmise of the orderly was correct--there was enough fighting. The first cannon-ball which tore through the air at Brandy was only too grave assurance of the fact. All day men were hurrying past the house, deserters from both armies getting away from the scene of bloodshed and thunder as quickly as possible. Then came the procession of the dead and wounded, some in ambulances, some in carts, some on the shoulders of friends.