Lee stood under the boughs of an oak, and ate food that had been prepared for him hastily.  But, as Harry saw, the act was purely mechanical.  He was watching as well as he could what was going on in front, and he was giving orders in turns to his aides.  Harry’s time had not yet come, and he kept his eyes on his chief.

There was no exultation in the face of Lee.  He had drawn Grant into the Wilderness and then he had held him fast in a battle of uncommon size and fierceness.  But nothing was decided.  He had studied the career of Grant, and he knew that he had a foe of great qualities with whom to deal.  He would have to fight him again, and fight very soon.  He heard too with a sorrow, hard to conceal, the reports of his own losses.  They were heavy enough and the gaps now made could never be refilled.  The Army of Northern Virginia, which had been such a powerful instrument in his hands, must fight with ever diminishing numbers.

Harry was sent to inquire into the condition of Longstreet, whom he found weak physically and suffering much pain.  But the veteran was upborne by the success of the day and his belief in ultimate victory.  He bade Harry tell the commander-in-chief that his men were fit to fight again and better than ever, at the first shoot of dawn.

Harry rode back in the night, the burning trees serving him for torches.  Nearly all the soldiers were busy.  Some were gathering up the wounded and others were building breastworks.  His eyes were reddened by the powder-smoke, and often the heavy black masses of vapor were impenetrable, save where the forest burned.  Now he came to a region where the dead and wounded were so thick that he dismounted and led his horse, lest a hoof be planted upon any one of them.  But he noticed that here as in other battles the wounded made but little complaint.  They suffered in silence, waiting for their comrades to take them away.

Then he passed around a section of forest that was burning fiercely.  Here Southern and Union soldiers had met on terms of peace and were making desperate efforts to save their helpless comrades.  Harry would have been glad to give aid himself, but he was too well trained now to turn aside when he rode for Lee.

He saw many dark figures passing before the flaming background, and as he walked more slowly than he thought, he saw one that looked remarkably familiar to him.  It was impossible to see the face, but he knew the walk and the lift of the shoulders.  Discipline gave way to impulse now, and he ran forward crying: 

“Dick!  Dick!”

Dick Mason, who had just dragged a wounded man beyond the range of the flames, turned at the sound of the voice.  Even had Harry seen his face at first he would not have known him nor would Dick have known Harry.  Both were black with ashes, smoke and burned gunpowder.  But Dick knew the voice in an instant.  Once more were the two cousins to meet in peace on an unfinished battlefield.