ead together--"The
Pilgrims of the Rhine"--Goldsmith--Bernardin de Saint Pierre. He had a
trick of serenading--danced well. She put her cheek down to his hand.
"My poor, poor boy! My poor, brave boy!"

The lieutenant smiled at her--rather a twisted smile, shining out of a
drawn white face. "I've got to be brave on one leg. Anyhow, Mrs. Cleave,
I can still sing and read. How is Miss Miriam?"

The assistant placed a basin and cloths. The surgeon gave a jerk of his
head. "You come on this side, Mrs. Cleave."

"No chloroform?"

"No chloroform. Contraband of war. Damned chivalric contest."

Late in the afternoon, as she was crossing the hall upon some other of
the long day's tasks she heard a group of soldiers talking. There were
infantry officers from the regiments left in town, and a dusty
cavalryman or two--riders from the front with dispatches or orders. One
with an old cut glass goblet of water in his hand talked and drank,
talked and drank.

"The aide came to George H. Steuart and said, 'General Jackson orders
you to pursue vigorously. He says lose no time. He says kill and
capture; let as few as possible get to the Potomac. Do your best.'" He
filled his glass again from the pitcher standing by. "Steuart answers
that he's of General Ewell's Division. Must take his orders from General
Ewell."

"West Point notions! Good Lord!"

"Says the aide, 'General Jackson commands General Ewell, and so may
command you. His orders are that you shall pursue vigorously'--Says
Steuart, 'I will send a courier to find General Ewell. If his orders are
corroboratory I will at once press forward--'"

"Good God! did he think Banks would wait?"

"Old Dick was in front; he wasn't behind. Took the aide two hours to
find him, sitting on Rifle, swearing because he didn't see the cavalry!
Well, he made the air around him blue, and sent back highly
'corroboratory' orders. Steuart promptly 'pressed forward vigorously,'
but Lord! Banks was halfway to the Potomac, his troops streaming by
every cow path, Stonewall and the infantry advance behind him--but
Little Sorrel couldn't do it alone." He put down the glass. "Steuart'll
catch it when Old Jack reports. We might have penned and killed the
snake, and now it's gotten away!"

"Never mind! It's badly hurt and it's quitting Virginia at a high rate
of speed. It's left a good bit of its skin behind, too. Hawks says he's
damned if the army shan't have square meals for a week, and
Crutchfield's