ten thousand men. Will he not try to attack?"

"No, sir! No! He cannot do it. I should tear him to pieces."

A heavy sound came into being. The staff officer swung round on his
horse. "Listen, sir!"

"Yes. Artillery firing to the northwest. Fremont will act without
Shields."

A courier came at a gallop. "General Ewell's compliments, sir, and the
battle of Cross Keys is beginning."

"Good! good! My compliments to General Ewell, and I expect him to win
it."

CHAPTER XXVII

JUDITH AND STAFFORD

The cortege bearing Ashby to his grave wound up and up to the pass in
the Blue Ridge. At the top it halted. The ambulance rested beside a grey
boulder, while the cavalry escort dismounted and let the horses crop the
sweet mountain grass. Below them, to the east, rolled Piedmont Virginia;
below them to the west lay the great Valley whence they had come. As
they rested they heard the cannon of Cross Keys, and with a glass made
out the battle smoke.

For an hour they gazed and listened, anxious and eager; then the
horsemen remounted, the ambulance moved from the boulder, and all went
slowly down the long loops of road. Down and down they wound, from the
cool, blowing air of the heights into the warm June region of red roads,
shady trees and clear streams, tall wheat and ripening cherries, old
houses and gardens. They were moving toward the Virginia Central, toward
Meechum's Station.

A courier had ridden far in advance. At Meechum's was a little crowd of
country people. "They're coming! That's an ambulance!--Is he in the
ambulance? Everybody take off their hats. Is that his horse behind? Yes,
it is a horse that he sometimes rode, but the three stallions were
killed. How mournful they come! Albert Sidney Johnston is dead, and Old
Joe may die, he is so badly hurt--and Bee is dead, and Ashby is dead."
Three women got out of an old carryall. "One of you men come help us
lift the flowers! We were up at dawn and gathered all there were--"

The train from Staunton came in--box cars and a passenger coach. The
coffin, made at Port Republic, was lifted from the ambulance, out of a
bed of fading flowers. It was wrapped in the battle-flag. The crowd
bowed its head. An old minister lifted trembling hand. "God--this Thy
servant! God--this Thy servant!" The three women brought their lilies,
their great sprays of citron aloes. The coffin was placed in the aisle
of the passenger coach, and four officers followed as its guard. The