The two rode slowly from the knoll and into
the road.
"It will be daylight in an hour," said Sherburne, "and by that time the
last of our men will be gone."
"And I must hasten to our commander-in-chief," said Harry.
"How is he?" asked Sherburne. "Does he seem downcast?"
"No, he holds his head as high as ever, and cheers the men. They say
that Pickett's charge was a glorious mistake, but he takes all the blame
for it, if there is any. He doesn't criticize any of his generals."
"Only a man of the greatest moral grandeur could act like that. It's
because of such things that our people, boys, officers and all, will
follow him to the death."
"Good-by, Sherburne," said Harry. "Hope I'll see you again soon."
He urged his horse into a faster gait, anxious to overtake Lee and report
that all was well with the rear guard. He noticed once more, and with
the greatest care that long line of the wounded and the unwounded,
winding sixteen miles across the hills from Gettysburg to Chambersburg,
and his mind was full of grave thoughts. More than two years in the very
thick of the greatest war, then known, were sufficient to make a boy a
man, at least in intellect and responsibility.
Harry saw very clearly, as he rode beside the retreating but valiant
army that had failed in its great attempt, that their role would be the
defensive.
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