The darkness, the flash of the rifles, the mutter of cannon, the blaze of gunpowder, the fierce shouts that rose now and then in the thickets, the foul odors, made him think that they had truly reached the infernal regions.
The lieutenant, who saw the battery unlimbering, had not been deceived by his imagination.

Just as they entered the road it fired a terrible volley of grape and shrapnel.

Luckily in the darkness it fired high, and the little Southern group heard the deadly sleet crashing in the bushes and boughs over their heads.
The devoted young staff officers instantly laid Jackson down in the road, and, sheltering him with their own bodies as they lay beside him, remained perfectly still while the awful rain of steel swept over their heads again.

Whether Jackson was conscious of it Harry never knew.
It was one of the most terrible moments of Harry's life.

He felt the most overwhelming grief, but every nerve, nevertheless, was sensitive to the last degree.