"Gentlemen, as you came by did you notice the condition of the ornamental fence about the yard?"
"Not especially, sir."
"I did, sir. One panel is gone. I suppose the men were tempted. It was a confounded cold rain."
The brigadier pursed his lips. "Well, colonel, you heard the order. All of you heard the order. I regret to say, so did I. Dog-gone tiredness and profound slumber are no excuse. You ought—we ought—to have heard them at the palings. General Jackson has ordered you all under arrest."
"Five of us, sir?"
"Five of you. Damn it, sir, six of us!"
The five colonels looked at one another and looked at their brigadier. "What would you advise, sir?"
The brigadier was very red. "I have sent one of my staff to Mrs. Wilson, gentlemen, to enquire the cost of the entire ornamental fence! I'd advise that we pay, and—if we've got any—pay in gold."
By eight o'clock the column was in motion—a fair day and a fair country, with all the harvest fields and the deep wooded hills and the August sky. After the rain the roads were just pleasantly wet; dewdrops hung on the corn blades, blackberries were ripening, ox-eye daisies fringed the banks of red earth. The head of the column, coming to a by-road, found awaiting it there an old, plain country woman in a faded sunbonnet and faded check apron. She had a basket on her arm, and she stepped into the middle of the road before Little Sorrel. "Air this General Jackson?"
Stonewall Jackson checked the horse. The staff and a division general or two stopped likewise. Behind them came on the infantry advance, long and jingling. "Yes, madam, I am General Jackson. What can I do for you?"