e
message, do you not?"

"Certainly, Leonidas, it's as plain as print to you and me. John
Carrington--good old John! honest old John!--is now in command of that
group of batteries on the right. He has been in charge of guns elsewhere,
and has been suddenly shifted to this point. The great increase in
volume and accuracy of fire proves it."

"Right, Hector! He's as surely there as we are here. The voice of those
cannon is the voice of John Carrington. Well, if we're to be crushed I
prefer for good old John to do it."

"But we're not crushed, Leonidas. We'll go out of Petersburg tonight,
beating off every attack of the enemy, and then if we can't hold Richmond
we'll march into North Carolina, gather together all the remaining forces
of the Confederacy, and, directed by the incomparable genius of our great
commander, we'll yet win the victory."

"Right, Hector! Right! Pardon me my moment of depression, but it was
only a moment, remember, and it will not occur again. The loss of a
capital--even if it should come to that--does not necessarily mean the
loss of a cause. Among the hills and mountains of North Carolina we can
hold out forever."

Harry was cheered by them, but he did not fully share their hopes and
beliefs.

"Aren't they two of the greatest men you've ever known?" whispered
St. Clair to him.

"If honesty and grandeur of soul make greatness they surely are," replied
Harry feelingly.

He returned now to his general's side, and watched the great bombardment.
Scores of guns in a vast half circle were raining shells upon the slender
Confederate lines. The blaze was continuous on a long front, and huge
clouds of smoke gathered above. Harry believed that the entire Union
army would move forward and attack their works, but the charge did not
come. Evidently Grant remembered Cold Harbor, and, feeling that his
enemy was in his grasp, he refrained from useless sacrifices.

Another terrible night, lighted up by the flash of cannon and thundering
with the crash of the batteries came, and Lee, collecting his army of
less than twenty thousand men, moved out of Petersburg. It tore Harry's
heart to leave the city, where they had held Grant at bay so long,
but he knew the necessity. They could not live another day under that
concentrated and awful fire. They might stay and surrender or retreat
and fight again, and valiant souls would surely choose the latter.

The march began just after twilight turne