Harry saw the sun flashing over thousands of bayonets.

He almost fancied he could hear the crack of the teamsters' whips as the long lines of wagons in the rear creaked along.
They descended rapidly, remounted their horses and galloped back to Jackson.
They buried Ashby that day, all the leading Southern officers following him to his grave, and throughout the afternoon the silence was continued.

But the signals on the mountain worked and worked, and the signalmen with Jackson replied.

No movement of the two pursuing armies was unknown to the Southern leader.
Harry, with an hour's leave, visited once more his friends of the Invincibles.

He had begged a package of fine West Indian cigarettes from Sherburne, and he literally laid them at the feet of the two colonels--he found them sitting together on the grass, lean gray men who seemed to be wholly reduced to bone and muscle.
"This is a great gift, Harry, perhaps greater than you think," said Colonel Leonidas Talbot gravely.