St. Clair took prompt measures.

“Harry Kenton!” he called sharply.

“Here!”

“Do you know what they do with a sentinel caught asleep?”

“They shoot him!”

“What of a messenger, bearing great news who has ridden two or three days and nights through a thousand dangers, and then becomes unconscious in his saddle within five hundred yards of his journey’s end?”

“The stake wouldn’t be too good for him,” replied Harry as with a mighty effort he shook himself, both body and mind.  Once more his eyes cleared and once more he sat erect in his saddle without help.

“I won’t fail, Arthur,” he said.  “Show the way.”

“There’s a big tree by the roadside almost straight ahead,” said St. Clair.  “General Lee is asleep under that, but he’ll be as wide awake as any man can be a half-minute after you arrive.”

They sprang from their horses, St. Clair spoke quickly with a watching officer who went at once to awaken Lee.  Harry dimly saw the form of the general who was sleeping on a blanket, spread over small boughs.  Near him a man in brilliant uniform was walking softly back and forth, and now and then impatiently striking the tops of his high yellow-topped boots with a little riding whip.  Harry knew at once that it was Stuart, but the cavalry leader had not yet noticed him.

Harry saw the officer bend over the commander-in-chief, who rose in an instant to his feet.  He was fully dressed and he showed gray in the dusky light, but he seemed as ever calm and grave.  Harry felt instantly the same swell of courage that the presence of Jackson had always brought to him.  It was Lee, the indomitable, the man of genius, who could not be beaten.  He heard him say to the officer who had awakened him, “Bring him immediately!” and he stepped forward, strengthening himself anew and filled with pride that he should be the first to arrive, as he felt that he certainly now was.

“Lieutenant Kenton!” said Lee.

“Yes, sir,” said Harry, lifting his cap.

“You were sent with Colonel Sherburne to see about the fords of the Potomac.”

“I was, sir.”

“And he has sent you back with the report?”

“He has, sir.  He did not give me any written report for fear that I might be captured.  He did me the honor to say that my verbal message would be believed.”

“It will.  I know you, as I do the other members of my staff.  Proceed.”

“The Potomac is in great flood, sir, and the bridge is destroyed.  It can’t be crossed until it runs down to its normal depth.”

Harry saw other generals of high rank drawing near.  One he recognized as Longstreet.  They were all silent and eager.

“Colonel Sherburne ordered me to say to you, sir,” continued Harry, “that the best fords would be between Williamsport and Hagerstown when the river ran down.”

“When did you leave him?”