At the door he glanced back.

Jackson had taken out Napoleon's Maxims and was reading the volume again.

The brow was seamed with thought, but his countenance was grave and steady.
Harry never forgot any look or act of his great chief in those days when the shadow of Chancellorsville was hovering near.
A dozen officers were in the mess tent, and they talked earnestly of various things, but Harry, unheeding their voices, lay down in a corner without taking off his clothes and went quietly to sleep.

Many came into the tent or went out of it in the course of the morning, but none of them disturbed him.

A man in the army slept when he could, and there was none wicked enough to awaken him until the right time for it.
He slept heavily nearly all through the day, and shortly after he awoke Sherburne and two other officers, their horses splashed with mud, rode up to the hunting lodge.