He had got into the habit of believing every thing Jackson said.

The end came in fifteen minutes more, and with it came the night.
The soldiers in their ardor had not noticed that the long shadows were creeping over the mountains.

The sun had already sunk in a blood-red blur behind the ridges, and as the men in blue slowly yielded the last slope darkness which was already heavy in the defiles and ravines swept down over the valley.
Jackson had won, but his men had suffered heavily and moreover he had stood on the defense.

He could not descend into the valley in the face of the Northern resistance which was sure to be fierce and enduring.
The Northern cannon were beginning to send curving shells again over the cliffs, sinister warnings of what the Virginians might expect if they came down to attack.

Harry and the other staff officers peering over the crest saw many fires burning along the banks of the river.