He now knew Harry well and always called him by his first name.
"Have you an order ?" he exclaimed eagerly.

"Does General Jackson want us to advance ?" "He has said nothing about an advance," replied Harry tactfully.
"He merely wanted me to ride down the line and report to him on the spirit of the soldiers as far as I could judge.

He knew that your men, General, would be hard to hold." Stuart threw back his head, shook his long yellow hair and laughed in a pleased way.
"General Jackson was right about my men," he said.

"It's hard to keep them from galloping into the battle, and my feelings are with them.
Yet we'll have all the fighting we want.

Look at the great masses of the Union army!" The fog had lifted again and the Northern columns were still advancing, marching boldly against the intrenched foe, although nearly every one of their generals save Burnside himself knew that it was a hopeless task.
In all the mighty events of the war that Harry witnessed few were as impressive to him as this solemn and steady march of the Union army, heads erect and bands playing, into the jaws of death.
He stayed only a few moments with Stuart, returning direct to Jackson.
On his way he passed Sherburne, who, with his troop, was on Stuart's extreme left flank.