A short, thick-set man with a grizzled beard closely cropped around an inscrutable mouth, and the serious formality of a respectable country deacon in his aspect, which even the major-generals blazon on the shoulder-strap of his loose tunic on his soldierly seat in the saddle could not entirely obliterate.

He had evidently perceived the general of brigade, and quickened his horse as the latter drew up.

The staff followed more leisurely, but still with some curiosity, to witness the meeting of the first general of the army with the youngest.

The division general saluted, but almost instantly withdrew his leathern gauntlet, and offered his bared hand to the brigadier.

The words of heroes are scant.