They could not hear, they did not seek to hear, but they were held by a sort of spell.

When they saw them separate, every one moving toward his own headquarters, they knew that there was nothing to await now but the dawn, and they stole back toward their own headquarters.
Dick had gone with Colonel Kenton to his own regiment, in the very heart of the Orphan Brigade, and on his way his uncle said: "Dick, you will sleep among my own lads, and I ask you for your own sake to make no attempt to escape tonight.

You would certainly be shot." "I recognize that fact, sir, and I shall await a better opportunity." "What to do with you in the morning I don't know, but we shall probably be able to take care of you.

Meanwhile, Dick, go to sleep if you can.
See, our boys are spread here through the woods.

If it were day you'd probably find at least a dozen among them whom you know, and certainly a hundred are of blood kin to you, more or less." Dick saw the dim forms stretched in hundreds on the ground, and, thanking his uncle for his kindness, he stretched himself upon an unoccupied bit of turf and closed his eyes.