The horsemen did not know until they trotted back and saw Harry kneeling beside his dead body, that the great Ashby was gone.

For a while they could not believe it.

Their brilliant and daring leader, who had led Jackson's vanguard in victory, and who had hung like a covering curtain in retreat, could not have fallen.

It seemed impossible that the man who had led for days and days through continuous showers of bullets could have been slain at last by some stray shot.
But they lifted him up finally and carried him away to a house in the little neighboring village of Port Republic, Sherburne and the other captains, hot from battle, riding with uncovered heads.

He was put upon a bed there, and Harry, a staff officer, was selected to ride to Jackson with the news.