bles under Talbot, and
one other regiment to hold the enemy off at all costs. As Harry galloped
back the mutter of the cannon grew into thunder. There was also the
sharper crash of rifle fire. Presently he saw the flash of the firing
and numerous spires of smoke rising.

His own message was to the Invincibles and he delivered the brief note
to Colonel Talbot, who read it quickly and then tore it up.

"Stay with us a while, Harry," he said, "and you can then report more
fully to the general what is going on. They crowd us hard. Look how
their sharpshooters are swarming in the woods and fields yonder."

An orchard to the left of the road and only a short distance away was
filled with the Union riflemen. Running from tree to tree and along the
fences they sent bullets straight into the ranks of the Invincibles.
Four guns were turned and swept the orchard with shell, but the wary
sharpshooters darted to another point, and again came the hail of
bullets. Colonel Talbot bade his weary men turn, but at the moment,
Sherburne, with a troop of cavalry, swept down on the riflemen and sent
them flying. Harry saw Colonel Talbot's lips moving, and he knew that he
was murmuring thanks because Sherburne had come so opportunely.

"We're not having an easy time," he said to Harry. "They press us hard.
We drive them back for a time, and they come again. They have field
guns, too, and they are handled with great skill. If I do not mistake
greatly, they are under the charge of Carrington, who, you remember,
fought us at that fort in the valley before Bull Run, John Carrington,
old John Carrington, my classmate at West Point, a man who wouldn't hurt
a fly, but who is the most deadly artillery officer in the world."

Harry remembered that famous duel of the guns in the hills and Colonel
Talbot's admiration of his opponent, Carrington. Now he could see it
shining in his eyes as strongly as ever.

"Why are you so sure, colonel, that it's Carrington?" he asked.

"Because nobody else could handle those field guns as he does. He
brings 'em up, sends the shot and shell upon us, then hitches up like
lightning, is away before we can charge, and in a minute or two is
firing into our line elsewhere. Trust Carrington for such work, and I'm
glad he hasn't been killed. John's the dearest soul in the world, as
gentle as a woman. Down! Down! all of you! There are the muzzles of his
guns in the bushes again!"

Colonel Talbot's order was so sharp and