Look away, look away."
"They didn't sing that when they was marching home," he said solemnly. "They only tramped along in the dark and rain."
Then suddenly he straightened up. Like an echo from his own lips, there came from the distance toward Gettysburg the same tune, played by fifes, with the dull accompaniment of drums. He bent forward, listening, then stood up, looking off toward the blue hills. At once he realized that the sound came from the other direction.
"I thought they was all past, long ago," he said. "And they never played. I guess I was asleep and dreaming."
He sat down once more, his head on his breast. When he lifted it, it was in response to a sharp "Halt!" He stared about him. The road before him was filled with soldiers, in dusty yellow uniforms. Then he was not dreaming, then—He tottered to the edge of the porch.
The men of the Third Regiment of the National Guard of Pennsylvania did not approve of the march, in their parlance a "hike," which their colonel had decided to give them along the line of Lee's retreat. They felt that just before the grand review in the afternoon, it was an imposition. They were glad to halt, while the captain of each company explained that upon the night of the third of July, 1863, Lee had traversed this road on his way to recross the Potomac.
When his explanation was over, the captain of Company I moved his men a little to the right under the shade of the maples. From there he saw the moving figure behind the vines.
"Sergeant, go in and ask whether we may have water."
THEY SAW THE STRANGE OLD FIGURE ON THE PORCH.