“Can you see anything?” Cary called.

“Not yet,” said Morrison.  “I guess we came too close to your nest—­and the hornets are coming out.”

“Turner!” he commanded, and a trooper’s hand went up, “ride up to the fork of the road.  Learn what you can and report.”

As the cavalryman struck his heels into his horse’s sides and dashed up the road Cary put the wishes of both men into words.

“It’s too near sundown for a battle.  It will only be a skirmish.”

“Ye-e-e-s, possibly,” the Northerner assented, and he looked thoughtfully at Virgie, “but still—­”

“What is it?”

“I can’t send you forward now—­in the face of that fire.  And, for that matter, I can’t send you to the rear.  In five minutes this road will be glutted with cavalry and guns.”

“Never mind, Morrison,” the Southerner returned.  “I couldn’t go now—­anyway.”

“Why?”

Cary opened out his hands in a simple gesture.  “Because, in case of trouble for you at headquarters, I’m still your prisoner.”  With his eyes brave and steady on the others he took the newly written pass from his breast—­and tore it in pieces.  “When you want me,” he said, “you’ll find me—­here.”

If there had been time for argument Morrison would have hotly protested against such self-sacrifice, but events were crowding upon them too fast.  From down the road came the sound of furious galloping.  Almost at once Lieutenant Harris, riding hard at the head of a troop of cavalry, swept round the curve and drew his horse upon his haunches.

“Colonel Morrison!” he shouted.  “You are ordered—­”

“One moment, Lieutenant,” interrupted Morrison in tones so even that Cary marveled at his composure, “Did you get Corporal Dudley?”

Cary’s ears ached for the answer.  He knew just as well as the questioner the danger which might now be disclosed or be forever forgotten and his heart went out to the other in this moment of hideous suspense.

There was an instant of hesitation and then came the answer.

“No, sir! We tried hard but couldn’t make it.”

Morrison’s face did not change but his hands tightened until the nails dug deep into his palms.  He had played—­and lost.

“Go on with your report,” he said.

Harris pulled in his fretting horse and delivered his significant news.

“The Rebels are advancing in force.  I was sent back to you with orders to join Major Foster at the fork and hold the road at any cost.  Two light field pieces are coming to your support.  Our main batteries are back there—­in the woods.”

“Right,” said Morrison, “we go at once.”  Turning back to Virgie he caught her up in his arms and kissed her.  “Good-by, little sweetheart.  Hide under the rocks and keep close.”

“Good-by, Morrison,” Gary said, as they struck hands.  “I can’t wish you luck—­but our hearts are with you as a man.”