Mr. Baron appeared on the veranda and soon began to yield to the soothing influences of his pipe.  It was not in his nature to make any formal acknowledgments of error, but he felt that he had gone on the wrong track far and long enough, and so was ready for a gradual amelioration in his relations to his niece and sister.  They had become too absorbed in the scene before them to think of much else, while Mrs. Baron sought composure and solace in her domestic affairs.

At last Mrs. Whately said, “The Yankees appear to have stopped retreating and to be increasing in numbers.  Alas!  I fear our men are in great danger and that the main column of the enemy is near.”

There was a sudden outbreak of cries and exclamations from the negroes in the rear of the mansion.  Zany rushed out, saying, “De Yanks comin’ by Aun’ Jinkey’s cabin.”

She had scarcely spoken before they heard a rush of trampling steeds and the head of a Union column swept round the house.  Miss Lou saw Scoville leading and knew that he had availed himself of his acquaintance with the place to guide an attack upon the Confederates in their rear.  He saluted her with his sabre and smiled as he passed, but her sympathies were with the major, now taken at such disadvantage.  At this period the troops on both sides were veterans, and neither fought nor ran away without good reason.  Major Brockton knew as well what to do as had Scoville before him, and retreated at a gallop with his men toward the southwest, whence his supports were advancing.  The Union attack, however, had been something of a surprise and a number of the Confederates were cut off.

The scene and event had been one to set every nerve tingling.  But a few yards away the Union force had rushed by like a living torrent, the ground trembling under the iron tread of the horses.  Far more impressive had been the near vision of the fierce, bronzed faces of the troopers, their eyes gleaming like their sabres, with the excitement of battle.  Scoville won her admiration unstintedly, even though she deprecated his purpose.  His bearing was so fearless, so jaunty even in its power, that he seemed as brave as any knight in the old-fashioned romances she had read, yet so real and genial that it was hard to believe he was facing death that sunny morning or bent upon inflicting it.  Looking at his young, smiling, care-free face, one could easily imagine that he was taking part in a military pageant; but the headlong career and flashing weapons of his men, who deployed as they charged straight at the Confederates, dispelled any such illusion.

The ridge began to grow black with Union men and Miss Lou soon perceived the gleam of artillery as the guns were placed in position.  Mr. Baron, who had permitted his pipe to go out in the excitement, groaned, “The Yanks have come in force and are forming a line of battle yonder.  If our troops come up, the fight will take place on my land.  Lord help us!  What’s coming next?”