“Nor I,” said Harry, who realized suddenly that he was on the verge of collapse. “Whether our arrival is to be followed by a battle or a retreat I'm afraid I won't be fit for either.”
They gave the password, and the pickets pointed to the tent of Jackson. They rode straight to him, and dismounted as he came forth from the tent. They were so stiff and sore from long riding that Dalton and Aubrey fell to their knees when they touched the ground, but they quickly recovered, and although they stood somewhat awkwardly they saluted with the deepest respect. Jackson's glance did not escape their mishap, and he knew the cause, but he merely said:
“Well, gentlemen.”
“I have to report, sir,” said Sherburne, speaking first as the senior officer, “that General Fremont is coming from the west with fifteen thousand men, ready to fall upon your right flank.”
“Very good, and what have you seen, Captain Aubrey?”
“Ord with ten thousand men is in our rear and is approaching Front Royal.”
“Very good. You have done faithful work, Captain Aubrey. What have you seen, Lieutenant Kenton and Lieutenant Dalton?”
“General Shields, sir, is in Manassas Gap this morning with ten thousand men, and he and General Ord can certainly meet to-day if they wish. We learned also that General McDowell can come up in a few days with twenty thousand more.”
The face of Stonewall Jackson never flinched. It looked worn and weary but not more so than it did before this news.
“I thank all of you, young gentlemen,” he said in his quiet level tones. “You have done good service. It may be that you're a little weary. You'd better sleep now. I shall call you when I want you.”