“Yes, Dick, I came here in secret, but I've seen two men, Judge Kendrick and Dr. Russell. The armies are passing so close to this place, and the guerillas from the mountains have become so troublesome, that she has gone to Danville to stay a while with her relatives. Nearly everybody else has gone, too. That's why the town is so silent. There were not many left anyway, except old people and children. But, Dick, I have ridden as far as you have to-night, and I came to ask a question which I thought Judge Kendrick or Dr. Russell might answer—news of those who leave a town often comes back to it—but neither of them could tell me what I wanted to hear. Dick, I have not heard a word of Harry since spring. His army has fought since then two great battles and many smaller ones! It was for this, to get some word of him, that I risked everything in leaving our army to come to Pendleton!”
He turned upon Dick a face distorted with pain and anxiety, and the boy quickly said:
“Uncle George, I have every reason to believe that Harry is alive and well.”
“What do you know? What have you heard about him?”
“I have not merely heard. I have seen him and talked with him. It was after the Second Manassas, when we were both with burial parties, and met on the field. I was at Antietam, and he, of course, was there, too, as he is with Stonewall Jackson. I did not see him in that battle, but I learned from a prisoner who knew him that he had escaped unwounded, and had gone with Lee's army into Virginia.”
“I thank God once more, Dick, that you were moved to come by my house. To know that both Harry and you are alive and well is joy enough for one man.”
“But it is likely, sir, that we'll soon meet in battle,” said Dick.
“So it would seem.”
And that was all that either said about his army. There was no attempt to obtain information by direct or indirect methods. This was a family meeting.
“You have a horse, of course,” said Colonel Kenton.