they continued the descent,
leading their horses all the way, and breathing deep relief, when they
stood at last in the plain.

"I'll remember that climb," said Langdon to Harry as he sprang into
the saddle, "and I won't do it again when there's snow up there, unless
General Jackson himself forces me up with the point of a bayonet."

"The view was fine."

"So it was, but the shooting was bad. Not a Yank, not a Reb fell, and
I'm not unhappy over it. A curious thing has happened to me, Harry.
While I'm ready to fight the Yankee at the drop of the hat I don't seem
to hate 'em as much as I did when the war began."

"Same here. The war ought not to have happened, but we're in it, and to
my way of thinking we're going to be in it mighty deep and long."

Langdon was silent for a little while, but nothing could depress him
long. He was soon chattering away as merrily as ever while the troop
rode back to General Jackson. Harry regarded him with some envy. A
temperament that could rejoice under any circumstances was truly worth
having.

Sherburne reported to Ashby who in return sent him to the commander,
Harry going with him to resume his place on the staff. Jackson heard the
report without comment and his face expressed nothing. Harry could not
see that he had changed much since he had come to join him. A little
thinner, a little more worn, perhaps, but he was the same quiet,
self-contained man, whose blue eyes often looked over and beyond the one
to whom he was talking, as if he were maturing plans far ahead.

Harry occupied a tent for the time with two or three other young
officers, and being permitted a few hours off duty he visited
his friends of the Invincibles, Colonel Leonidas Talbot and
Lieutenant-Colonel Hector St. Hilaire. The two old comrades already had
heard the results of the scout from St. Clair and Langdon, but they gave
Harry a welcome because they liked him. They also gave him a camp stool,
no small luxury in an army that marches and fights hard, using more
gunpowder than anything else.

Harry put the stool against a tree, sat on it and leaned back against
the trunk, feeling a great sense of luxury. The two men regarded him
with a benevolent eye. They, too, were enjoying luxuries, cigars which
a cavalry detail had captured from the enemy. It struck Harry at the
moment that although one was of British descent and the other of French
they were very much alike. South Carolina had bred them and then West