scarred so deeply by battle, but attack
and defense went on. As night came the thudding of cannon added to the
tumult, and then the three boys saw the Rappahannock, a deep and wide
stream flowing between high banks crested with timber. Ahead of them
Pope's army was crossing on the bridge and in boats, and masses
of infantry supported by heavy batteries had turned to protect the
crossing. The Southern vanguard could not assail such a powerful
force, and before the night was over the whole Union army passed to the
Northern side of the Rappahannock.

Dick felt a mixture of chagrin and satisfaction as he crossed the river,
chagrin that this great army should draw back, as McClellan's had been
forced to draw back at the Seven Days, and satisfaction that they were
safe for the time being and could prepare for a new start.

But the feeling of exultation soon passed and gave way wholly to
chagrin. They were retreating before an army not exceeding their own,
in numbers, perhaps less. They had another great force, the Army of the
Potomac, which should have been there, and then they could have bade
defiance to Lee and Jackson. The North with its great numbers, its fine
courage and its splendid patriotism should never be retreating. He felt
once more as thousands of others felt that the hand on the reins was
neither strong nor sure, and that the great trouble lay there. They
ought not to be hiding behind a river. Lee and Jackson did not do it.
Dick remembered that grim commander in the West, the silent Grant, and
he did not believe he would be retreating.

Long after darkness came the firing continued between skirmishers across
the stream, but finally it, too, waned and Dick was permitted to throw
himself upon the ground and sleep with the sleeping thousands. Warner
and Pennington slept near him and not far away was the brave sergeant.
Even he was overpowered by fatigue and he slept like one dead, never
stirring.

Dick was awakened next morning by the booming of cannon. He had become
so much used to such sounds that he would have slept on had not the
crashes been so irregular. He stood up, rubbed his eyes and then looked
in the direction whence came the cannonade. He saw from the crest of a
hill great numbers of Confederate troops on the other side of the river,
the August sun glittering over thousands of bayonets and rifle barrels,
and along the somber batteries of great guns. The firing, so far as he
could determine, was mere