He would have given his cloak to some one of the shivering youths who marched on foot near him, but he knew that Jackson would not permit any such open breach of discipline.
The boy watched the leader who rode almost by his side.

Jackson had put on his own cavalry cloak, but it was fastened by a single button at the top and it had blown open.

He did not seem to notice the fact.
Apparently he was oblivious of heat and cold alike, and rode on, bent a little forward in the saddle, his face the usual impenetrable mask.

But Harry knew that the brain behind that brow never ceased to work, always thinking and planning, trying this combination and that, ready to make any sacrifice to do the work that was to be done.
The long shadows came, and the short day that had turned so cold was over, giving way to the night that was colder than the day.

They were on the hills now and even the vigorous Jackson felt that it was time to stop until morning.