Beauregard turned to Colonel Evans, whose little regiment had fought with sullen desperation since sunrise.
"I can't make out that flag. If it's Patterson's army from the valley—God help us—"
"It may be Elzey and Kirby Smith's regiments," Evans replied. "They're lost somewhere along the road from Winchester."
Again Beauregard strained his eyes on the steadily advancing flag. It was a moment of crushing agony.
"I'm afraid it's Patterson's men. We must fall back on our last reserve—"
He quickly lowered his glasses.
"I haven't a courier left, Colonel. You must help me—"
"Certainly, General."
"Find Johnston, and ask him to at once mass the reserves to support and protect our retreat—"
Evans started immediately to execute the order.