“George,” said Harry, “we must chance it now and get back to the horses. We've got to reach General Jackson before the Northern army is through the pass.”  
“You lead,” said Dalton. “I don't think we'll have any danger except when we are in that strip of grass between these bushes and the woods.”
 
Harry started, and when he reached the grass threw himself almost flat on his face again, crawling forward with extreme caution. Dalton, close behind him, imitated his comrade. The high grass merely rippled as they passed and the anxious Northern officers walking back and forth were not well enough versed in woodcraft to read from any sign that an enemy was near.
 
Once Dalton struck his knee against a small bush and caused its leaves to rustle. A wary and experienced scout would have noticed the slight, though new noise, and Harry and Dalton, stopping, lay perfectly still. But the officers walked to and fro, undisturbed, and the two boys resumed their creeping flight.
 
When they reached the forest, they rose gladly from their knees, and ran up the slope, still bearing in mind that time was now the most pressing of all things. They whistled softly as they neared the little plateau, and Billy's low answering whistle came back. They hurried up the last reach of the slope, and there he was, the eyes shining in his eager face, the three bridles clutched tightly in his small right hand.
 
“Did you get what you wanted?” he asked in a whisper.
 
“We did, Billy,” answered Harry.
 
“I saw 'em sendin' up shootin' stars an' other shootin' stars way off to the east answerin', an' I didn't know what it meant.”
 
“It was their vanguard in the Gap, talking to their army several miles to the eastward. But we lay in the bushes, Billy, and we heard what their officers said. All that you heard was true. Ten thousand Yankees will be through the pass in the morning, and Stonewall Jackson will have great cause to be grateful to William Pomeroy, aged twelve.”
 
The boy's eyes fairly glowed, but he was a man of action.
 
“Then I guess that we've got to jump on our horses and ride lickety split down the valley to give warnin' to General Jackson,” he said.
 
Harry knew what was passing in the boy's mind, that he would go with them all the way to Jackson, and he did not have the heart to say anything to the contrary just then. But Dalton replied:
 
“Right you are, Billy. We ride now as if the woods were burning behind us.”
 
Billy was first in the saddle and led the way. The horses had gained a good rest, while Harry and Dalton were stalking the troopers in the valley, and, after they had made the descent of the slope, they swung into a long easy gallop across the level.
 
The little lad still kept his place in front. Neither of the others would have deprived him of this honor which he deserved so well. He sat erect, swinging with his horse, and he showed no sign of weariness. They took no precautions now to evade a possible meeting with the enemy. What they needed was haste, haste, always haste. They must risk everything to carry the news to Jackson. A mere half hour might mean the difference between salvation and destruction.
 
Harry felt the great tension of the moment. The words of the Northern officers had made him understand what he already suspected. The whole fate of the Confederacy would waver in the balance on the morrow. If Jackson were surrounded and overpowered, the South would lose its right arm. Then the armies that engulfed him would join McClellan and pour forward in an overwhelming host on Richmond.
 
Their hoofbeats rang in a steady beat on the road, as they went forward on that long easy gallop which made the miles drop swiftly behind them. The skies brightened, and the great stars danced in a solid sheet of blue. They were in the gently rolling country, and occasionally they passed a farmhouse. Now and then, a watchful dog barked at them, but they soon left him and his bark behind.
 
Harry noticed that Billy's figure was beginning to waver slightly, and he knew that weariness and the lack of sleep were at last gaining the mastery over his daring young spirit. It gave him relief, as it solved a problem that had been worrying him. He rode up by the side of Billy, but he said nothing. The boy's eyelids were heavy and the youthful figure was wavering, but it was in no danger of falling. Billy could have ridden his horse sound asleep.
 
Harry presently saw the roof of Mrs. Pomeroy's house showing among the trees.
 
“It's less than half a mile to your house, Billy,” he said.
 
“But I'm not going to stop there. I'm goin' on with you to General Jackson, an' I'm goin' to help him fight the Yankees.”
 
Harry was silent, but when they galloped up to the Pomeroy house, Billy was nearly asleep.
 
The door sprang open as they approached, and the figure of the stalwart woman appeared. Harry knew that she had been watching there every minute since they left. He was touched by the dramatic spirit of the moment, and he said:
 
“Mrs. Pomeroy, we bring back to you the most gallant soldier in Stonewall Jackson's army of the Valley of Virginia. He led us straight to the Gap where we were able to learn the enemy's movements, a knowledge which may save the Confederacy from speedy destruction. We bring him back to you, safe and unharmed, and sleeping soundly in his saddle.”
 
He lifted Billy from the saddle and put him in his mother's arms.
 
“Billy's a hero, Cousin Eliza,” said Dalton. “Few full-grown men have done as important deeds in their whole lives as he has done to-night. When he awakens he'll be angry because he didn't go with us, but you tell him we'll see that he's a duly enrolled member of General Jackson's army. Stonewall Jackson never forgets such deeds as his.”
 
“It's a proud woman I am to-night,” said Mrs. Pomeroy. “Good-bye, Cousin George, and you, too, Mr. Kenton. I can see that you're in a hurry to be off, and you ought to be. I want to see both of you in my house again in better days.”
 
She went inside, carrying the exhausted and sleeping boy in her arms, and Harry and Dalton galloped away side by side.
 
“How's your horse, Harry?” asked Dalton.
 
“Fine. Smooth as silk! How's yours?”
 
“The machinery moves without a jar. I may be stiff and sore myself, but I'm so anxious to get to General Jackson that I haven't time to think about it.”
 
“Same here. Suppose we speed 'em up a little more.”
 
They came into the turnpike, and now the horses lengthened out their stride as they fled northward. It was yet some time until dawn, but the two young riders took the cold food from their knapsacks and ate as they galloped on. It was well that they had good horses, staunch and true, as they were pushing them hard now.
 
Harry looked toward the west, where the dark slope of Little North Mountain closed in the valley from that side, and he felt a shiver which he knew did not come from the night air. He knew that a powerful Northern force was off there somewhere, and he wondered what it was doing. But he and Dalton had done their duty. They had uncovered one hostile force, and doubtless other men who rode in the night for Jackson would attend to the rest.
 
Both Harry and Dalton had been continuously in the saddle for many hours now, but they did not notice their weariness. They were still upborne by a great anxiety and a great exaltation, too. Feeling to the full the imminence and immensity of the crisis, they were bending themselves heart and soul to prevent it, and no thought of weariness could enter their minds. Each was another Billy, only on a larger and older scale.
 
Later on, the moon and all the stars slipped away, and it became very dark. Harry felt that it was merely a preliminary to the dawn, and he asked Dalton if he did not think so, too.
 
“It's too dark for me to see the face of my watch,” said Dalton, “but I know you're right, Harry. I can just feel the coming of the dawn. It's some quality in the air. I think it grows a little colder than it has been in the other hours of the night.”
 
“I can feel the wind freshening on my face. It nips a bit for a May morning.”
 
They slackened speed a little, wishing to save their horses for a final burst, and stopped once or twice for a second or two to listen for the sound of other hoofbeats than their own. But they heard none.
 
“If the Yankee armies are already on the turnpike they're not near us. That's sure,” said Dalton.
 
“Do you know how many men they have?”
 
“Some of the spies brought in what the general believed to be pretty straight reports. The rumors said that Shields was advancing to Manassas Gap with ten thousand men, and from what we heard we know that is true. A second detachment, also ten thousand strong, from McDowell's army is coming toward Front Royal, and McDowell has twenty thousand men east of the Blue Ridge. What the forces to the west are I don't know but the enemy in face of the general himself on the Potomac must now number at least ten thousand.”
 
Harry whistled.
 
“And at the best we can't muster more than fifteen thousand fit to carry arms!” he exclaimed.
 
Dalton leaned over in the dark, and touched his comrade on the shoulder.
 
“Harry,” he said, “don't forget Old Jack. Where Little Sorrel leads there is always an army of forty thousand men. I'm not setting myself up to be very religious, but it's safe to say that he was praying to-night, and when Old Jack prays, look out.”
 
“Yes, if anybody can lead us out of this trap it will be Old Jack,” said Harry. “Look, there's the dawn coming over the Blue Ridge, George.”
 
A faint tint of gray was appearing on the loftiest crests of the Blue Ridge. It could scarcely be called light yet, but it was a sign to the two that the darkness there would soon melt away. Gradually the gray shredded off and then the ridges were tipped with silver which soon turned to gold. Dawn rushed down over the valley and the pleasant forests and fields sprang into light.
 
Then they heard hoofbeats behind them coming fast. The experienced ears of both told them that it was only a single horseman who came, and, drawing their pistols, they turned their horses across the road. When the rider saw the two threatening figures he stopped, but in a moment he rode on again. They were in gray and so was he.
 
“Why, it's Chris Aubrey of the general's own staff!” exclaimed Dalton. “Don't you know him, Harry?”
 
“Of course I do. Aubrey, we're friends. It's Dalton and Kenton.”
 
Aubrey dashed his hands across his eyes, as if he were clearing a mist from them. He was worn and weary, and his look bore a singular resemblance to that of despair.
 
“What is it, Chris?” asked Dalton with sympathy.
 
“I was sent down the Luray Valley to learn what I could and I discovered that Ord was advancing with ten thousand men on Front Royal, where General Jackson left only a small garrison. I'm going as fast as my horse can take me to tell him.”
 
“We're on the same kind of a mission, Chris,” said Harry. “We've seen the vanguard of Shields, ten thousand strong coming through Manassas Gap, and we also are going as fast as our horses can take us to tell General Jackson.”
 
“My God! Does it mean that we are about to be surrounded?”
 
“It looks like it,” said Harry, “but sometimes you catch things that you can't hold. George and I never give up faith in Old Jack.”
 
“Nor do I,” said Aubrey. “Come on! We'll ride together! I'm glad I met you boys. You give me courage.”
 
The three now rode abreast and again they galloped. One or two early farmers going phlegmatically to their fields saw them, but they passed on in silence. They had grown too used to soldiers to pay much attention to them. Moreover, these were their own.
 
The whole valley was now flooded with light. To east and to west loomed the great walls of the mountains, heavy with foliage, cut here and there by invisible gaps through which Harry knew that the union troops were pouring.
 
They caught sight of moving heads on a narrow road coming from the west which would soon merge into theirs. They slackened speed for a moment or two, uncertain what to do, and then Aubrey exclaimed:
 
“It's a detachment of our own cavalry. See their gray uniforms, and that's Sherburne leading them!”
 
“So it is!” exclaimed Harry, and he rode forward joyfully. Sherburne gave all three of them a warm welcome, but he was far from cheerful. He led a dozen troopers and they, like himself, were covered with dust and were drooping with weariness. It was evident to Harry that they had ridden far and hard, and that they did not bring good news.
 
“Well, Harry,” said Sherburne, still attempting the gay air, “chance has brought us together again, and I should judge from your appearance that you've come a long way, bringing nothing particularly good.”
 
“It's so. George and I have been riding all night. We were in Manassas Gap and we learned definitely that Shields is coming through the pass with ten thousand men.”
 
“Fine,” said Sherburne with a dusty smile. “Ten thousand is a good round number.”
 
“And if we'll give him time enough,” continued Harry, “McDowell will come with twice as many more.”
 
“Look's likely,” said Sherburne.
 
“We've been riding back toward Jackson as fast as we could,” continued Harry, “and a little while ago Aubrey riding the same way overtook us.”
 
“And what have you seen, Aubrey?” asked Sherburne.
 
“I? Oh, I've seen a lot. I've been down by Front Royal in the night, and I've seen Ord with ten thousand men coming full tilt down the Luray Valley.”
 
“What another ten thousand! It's funny how the Yankees run to even tens of thousands, or multiples of that number.”
 
“I've heard,” said Harry, “that the force under Banks and Saxton in front of Jackson was ten thousand also.”
 
“I'm sorry, boys, to break up this continuity,” said Sherburne with a troubled laugh, “but it's fifteen thousand that I've got to report. Fremont is coming from the west with that number. We've seen 'em. I've no doubt that at this moment there are nearly fifty thousand Yankees in the valley, with more coming, and all but ten thousand of them are in General Jackson's rear.”
 
It seemed that Sherburne, daring cavalryman, had lost his courage for the moment, but the faith of the stern Presbyterian youth, Dalton, never faltered.
 
“As I told Harry a little while ago, we have at least fifty thousand men,” he said.
 
“What do you mean?” asked Sherburne.
 
“I count Stonewall Jackson as forty thousand, and the rest will bring the number well over fifty thousand.”
 
Sherburne struck his gauntleted hand smartly on his thigh.
 
“You talk sense, Dalton!” he exclaimed. “I was foolish to despair! I forgot how much there was under Stonewall Jackson's hat! They haven't caught the old fox yet!”
 
They galloped on anew, and now they were riding on the road, over which they had pursued so hotly the defeated army of Banks. They would soon be in Jackson's camp, and as they approached their hearts grew lighter. They would cast off their responsibilities and trust all to the leader who appeared so great to them.
 
“I see pickets now,” said Aubrey. “Only five more minutes, boys, but as soon as I give my news I'll have to drop. The excitement has kept me up, but I can't last any longer.”
 
“Nor I,” said Harry, who realized suddenly that he was on the verge of collapse. “Whether our arrival is to be followed by a battle or a retreat I'm afraid I won't be fit for either.”
 
They gave the password, and the pickets pointed to the tent of Jackson. They rode straight to him, and dismounted as he came forth from the tent. They were so stiff and sore from long riding that Dalton and Aubrey fell to their knees when they touched the ground, but they quickly recovered, and although they stood somewhat awkwardly they saluted with the deepest respect. Jackson's glance did not escape their mishap, and he knew the cause, but he merely said:
 
“Well, gentlemen.”
 
“I have to report, sir,” said Sherburne, speaking first as the senior officer, “that General Fremont is coming from the west with fifteen thousand men, ready to fall upon your right flank.”
 
“Very good, and what have you seen, Captain Aubrey?”
 
“Ord with ten thousand men is in our rear and is approaching Front Royal.”
 
“Very good. You have done faithful work, Captain Aubrey. What have you seen, Lieutenant Kenton and Lieutenant Dalton?”
 
“General Shields, sir, is in Manassas Gap this morning with ten thousand men, and he and General Ord can certainly meet to-day if they wish. We learned also that General McDowell can come up in a few days with twenty thousand more.”
 
The face of Stonewall Jackson never flinched. It looked worn and weary but not more so than it did before this news.
 
“I thank all of you, young gentlemen,” he said in his quiet level tones. “You have done good service. It may be that you're a little weary. You'd better sleep now. I shall call you when I want you.”
 
The four saluted and General Jackson went back into the tent. Aubrey made a grimace.
 
“We may be a little tired!” he said. “Why, I haven't been out of the saddle for twenty-four hours, and I felt so anxious that every one of those hours was a day long.”
 
“But it's a lot to get from the general an admission that you may be even a little tired,” said Dalton. “Remember the man for whom you ride.”
 
“That's so,” said Aubrey, “and I oughtn't to have said what I did. We've got to live up to new standards.”
 
Sherburne, Aubrey and Dalton picked out soft spots on the grass and almost instantly were sound asleep, but Harry lingered a minute or two longer. He saw across the river the glitter of bayonets and the dark muzzles of cannon. He also saw many troops moving on the hills and he knew that he was looking upon the remains of Banks' army reinforced by fresh men, ready to dispute the passage or fight Jackson if he marched northward in any other way, while the great masses of their comrades gathered behind him.
 
Harry felt again for a moment that terrible sinking of the heart which is such close kin to despair. Enemies to the north of them, enemies to the south of them, and to the east and to the west, enemies everywhere. The ring was closing in. Worse than that, it had closed in already and Stonewall Jackson was only mortal. Neither he nor any one else could lead them through the overwhelming ranks of such a force.
 
But the feeling passed quickly. It could not linger, because the band of the Acadians was playing, and the dark men of the Gulf were singing. Even with the foe in sight, and a long train of battles and marches behind them, with others yet wo............