Jack was sergeant of the guard that night, and it was in the group of sentries awaiting their relief every two hours, re-enforced by his tent-mates of Company K, that these learned dissertations on war were carried on.  It was a never to be forgotten Saturday night to millions yet living.  In Washington the President and his Cabinet sat far into the morning hours receiving the dispatches from the weary and disappointed chief—­for, if Tyler had not made his miserable attempt to reach Manassas, the battle would have been fought that vital Saturday, and the result would have been another story in history.  As the morning broke, red and murky, the army was up and in line, but without the usual noisy signals.  The artillery-horses began to move first wherever it was possible.  The heavy guns were pushed forward on the sward, to prevent the loud metallic clangor that penetrated the still air like clashing anvils.  By half after six, the advance brigade, the Caribees in their old place, were within gunshot of the stone bridge.

“Ah ha, Jack!  It is the Napoleonic plan!” Barney cried, as the artillery took places in front of the masses lying on the ground.

“Wait,” Jack cried, owlishly.  “The battle isn’t fought always where the guns are loudest.”

But the guns were now loud and quick.  The rebels, behind a thick screen of trees, took up the challenge, and every sound was drowned in the roar of the artillery.  A few far in the rear were wounded—­those nearest the rebels were in the least danger, whether because the guns could not be sufficiently depressed, or because the gunners were poor hands, couldn’t be determined.  A breathless suspense, an insatiate craving to see, to move, to fly forward, or do anything, devoured the prostrate ranks.  The firing had gone on two hours or more, which seemed only so many minutes, when to the group near General Tyler a courier, panting and dusty, rode in great excitement.

“General Tyler, the major-general has just learned that the enemy have crossed in force at Blackburn’s Ford, below you.  You are at once to take measures to protect your left flank.”

“Ah ha, Jack; Frederick’s on the other side, eh?” Barney said, as, standing near the group, these words reached their ears.

“Perhaps there are two Fredericks at work.  Look yonder!” handing him his glass as he spoke.

“Thunder! our whole army is marching over there to the right, and we sha’n’t even see the battle.  They are four miles off.  Why, what an immense army we must have!  I thought this was the bulk of it, but we’re not a brigade compared to that.”

“Now, Barney, I feel confident that is the grand movement.  Look how they fly along!  The fields are as good as roads out there, and if it were not for the artillery they could make five miles an hour.  Now, keep your ears open, my lad:  you’ll hear music off there to the northwest, music that will make Beauregard sick, if that courier’s information is exact.  For, don’t you see, as we are placed here, with that gully to our left and the thick woods in front, we could hold this ground against six times our number.”