He knew now that Stonewall Jackson would have missed him.
"If the night were only a little further away," continued Jackson, "we could get them all! But the twilight is fighting for them! And they fight for themselves also! Look, how those men retreat! They do well for troops who were surprised and routed not so long ago!" He spoke in a general way to his staff, but his tone expressed decided admiration.

Harry felt again that the core of the Northern resistance was growing harder and harder.

The hostile cannon blazed down the road, and the men as they slowly retired sent sheets of rifle bullets at their pursuers.

Detachments of their flying cavalry were stopped, reformed on the flanks, and had the temerity to charge the victors more than once.
Harry did not notice now that the twilight was gone and the sun had sunk behind the western mountains.

The road between pursuer and pursued was lighted up by the constant flashes of cannon and rifles, and at times he fancied that he could see the vengeful and threatening faces of those whom he followed, but it was only fancy, fancy bred by battle and its excitement.
The pursued crossed a broad marshy creek, the Opequon, and suddenly formed in line of battle behind it with the cavalry on their flanks.
The infantry poured in heavier volleys than before and their horsemen, charging suddenly upon a Virginia regiment that was trying to cross, sent it back in rapid retreat.
After the great volleys it was dark for a moment or two and then Harry saw that General Jackson and his staff were sitting alone on their horses on the turnpike.