Thousands of soldiers were sitting on the grass and among the bushes, some asleep, some playing games, while others were cooking, reading newspapers sent from the North, and some were singing.

It was a picture of idleness and ease in a camp, and not one among them suspected that thirty thousand veterans of the South, led by Stonewall Jackson himself, were within rifle shot, hidden under the vast canopy of the Wilderness.
Harry drew a deep breath, and then another.

It was extraordinary, unbelievable, but it was true.

He looked again at Jackson and saw that his eyes were still burning with blue fire.

The general gazed for five minutes, but never said a word.