Soldier.  The enemy!

Winth.  Where?

Soldier.  There, across the river.  Hark!

[The distant sound of horses galloping is heard.

Winth.  Under cover!  Load!  Make ready!

[They all crouch behind bushes with guns in readiness. 
The horses’ hoofs are plainly heard, and then the sound
of voices singing “Spur On.”  The sound comes nearer,
then the hoofs cease.

Winth.  They’re in the river.  Ready!  Aim!  Fire!

[A volley of shots.

Hop.  They’re stopped—­some down.  Charge!  Capture!

[Exit soldiers.

Evans.  Watch the kid in baby blue.

[He rises higher than the others and fires.  There’s a feeble
return of the fire (off Right).

Winth. (springs to his feet).  God!  No!  Bev!

Hop.  Down, man!

[Winthrop staggers; is about to fall; Hopkins catches him; eases
him to the ground.

Where?

Winth.  Here in the side.

[Hopkins presses his handkerchief to wound.

It was little Bev.

Hop.  No; you are wounded.

Winth.  I’m all right.  See to the boy.

[Re-enter soldiers with four Confederate soldiers wounded. 
They place them on the blankets.

Hop.  Come; look for the little boy who had the flag.

[He exits with two men.

A Wounded Soldier.  Was little Stuart—­killed?

Winth. (raising himself with an effort).  I do not know.

The Soldier (barely able to speak).  He joined us not a half hour ago—­first venture in army—­last one of boys—­had the flag.

Winth.  Are they coming?

Soldier (raising himself, painfully).  Yes.  Good God!

[He quickly hides his face on his arm.

[Enter Hopkins, bearing Bev’s body in his arms.  Bev wears the
little blue uniform Fair made in Act I. There is a great
blood stain over his heart.  He is strangely young and
childish looking—­a faint smile on his lips.  One of the
soldiers is carrying a Confederate battle-flag, torn
from its staff, very ragged and muddy.

Winth. (trying to rise).  Dead!

Hop.  Dead! (Looks down at Bev).  Where?

Winth.  Over there—­on my coat. (Points to where his overcoat is lying under one of the trees, back to the right).  Put the flag near him.

[The soldier does so, after they lay Bev’s body gently down. 
Hopkins comes to Winthrop, lifts head, giving him water
from a tin cup.

Winth.  Give some to them.

[Indicates prisoners.

Soldier (in a broken, gasping voice).  I reckon some one—­told her by this time—­few of them got away—­passed by home.  I’d rather be here, though—­than to be the one to tell her.  She’ll come for him, I reckon.

[Hopkins begins to pace up and down at the back, looking
anxiously off across the river.