flash from the northern bank and the
rattle of the carbines were met from the southern by as vivid a leaping
spark, as loud a sound. With the New Jersey squadrons was a Parrott gun.
It was brought up, placed and fired. The shell exploded as it touched
the red-lit water. There was a Versailles fountain costing nothing. The
Blakeley answered. The grey began to sing.

"If you want to have a good time--
If you want to have a good time--
If you want to catch the devil,
Jine the cavalry!"

A courier appeared beside Ashby. "General Jackson wants to know, sir, if
they can cross?"

"Look at the bridge and tell him, No."

"Then he says to fall back. Ammunition's precious."

The cavalry leader put to his lips the fairy clarion slung from his
shoulder and sounded the retreat. The flaming bridge lit all the place
and showed the great black horse and him upon it. The English adventurer
across the water had with him sharpshooters. In the light that wavered,
leaped and died, and sprang again, these had striven in vain to reach
that high-placed target. Now one succeeded.

The ball entered the black's side. He had stood like a rock, now he
veered like a ship in a storm. Ashby dropped the bugle, threw his leg
over the saddle, and sprang to the earth as the great horse sank. Those
near him came about him. "No! I am not hurt, but Black Conrad is. My
poor friend!" He stroked Black Conrad, kissed him between the eyes and
drew his pistol. Chew fired the Blakeley again, drowning all lesser
sound. Suddenly the supports of the bridge gave way. A great part of the
roaring mass fell into the stream; the remainder, toward the southern
shore, flamed higher and higher. The long rattle of the Federal carbines
had an angry sound. They might have marched more swiftly after all,
seeing that Stonewall Jackson would not march more slowly! Build a
bridge! How could they build a bridge over the wide stream, angry
itself, hoarsely and violently thrusting its way under an inky,
tempestuous sky! They had no need to spare ammunition, and so they fired
recklessly, cannon, carbine, and revolvers into the night after the
grey, retiring squadrons.

Stafford, no great favourite with the mass of the men, but well liked by
some, rode beside a fellow officer. This was a man genial and shrewd,
who played the game of war as he played that of whist, eyes half closed
and memo