Sherburne drew a whistle from his pocket and blew a low call upon it.  Scores of shadowy figures rose from the undergrowth, and followed his lead down the stream.  Harry was still able to see that the force on the other side was increasing largely in numbers, but Sherburne reminded him that his duties, as far as the coming skirmish was concerned, were over.

“General Lee didn’t send you here to get killed,” he said.  “He wants you instead to report how many of us get killed.  You know that while the general is a kind man he can be stern, too, and you’re not to take the risk.  The orderly is behind that hill with your horse and mine.”

Harry, with a sigh, fell back toward the hill.  But he did not yet go behind it, where the orderly stood.  Instead he lay down among the trees on the slope, where he could watch what was going forward, and once more his face turned to the likeness of the great Indian fighter.

He saw Sherburne’s dismounted troop and others, perhaps five hundred in all, moving slowly among the bushes parallel with the stream, and he saw a force which he surmised to be of about equal size, creeping along in the undergrowth on the other side.  He followed both bodies with his glasses.  With long looking everything became clearer and clearer.  The moonlight had to him almost the brilliancy of day.

His eyes followed the Union force, until it came to a point where the creek ran shallow over pebbles.  Then the Union leader raised his sword, uttered a cry of command, and the whole force dashed at the ford.  The cry met its response in an order from Sherburne, and the thickets flamed with the Southern rifles.

The advantage was wholly with the South, standing on the defense in dark undergrowth, and the Union troop, despite its desperate attempts at the ford, was beaten back with great loss.

Harry waited until the result was sure, and then he walked slowly over the hill toward the point, where the orderly was waiting with the horses.  The man, who knew him, handed him the reins of his mount, saying at the same time: 

“I’ve a note for you, sir.”

“For me?”

“Yes, sir.  It was handed to me about fifteen minutes ago by a large man in our uniform, whom I didn’t know.”

“Probably a dispatch that I’m to carry to General Lee.”

“No, sir.  It’s addressed to you.”

The note was written in pencil on a piece of coarse gray paper, folded several times, but with a face large enough to show Harry’s name upon it.  He wondered, but said nothing to the sentinel, and did not look at the note again, until he had ridden some distance.

He stopped in a little glade where the moonlight fell clearly.  He still heard scattered firing behind him, but he knew that the skirmish was in reality over, and he concluded that no further attempt by Union detachments to advance would be made in the face of such vigilance.  He could report to General Lee that the rear of his army was safe.  So he would delay and look at the letter that had come to him out of the mysterious darkness.