Harry, who had seen nothing
strange in Meade's lack of pursuit, now wondered at it. Surely when the
news of Vicksburg came the exultant Army of the Potomac would follow,
and try to deliver a crushing blow.
It was revealed to him as he stood silent in the moonlight that a gulf
had suddenly yawned before the South. The slash of Grant's sword in the
West had been terrible, and the wound that it made could not be cured
easily. And the Army of Northern Virginia had not only failed in its
supreme attempt, but a great river now flowed between it and Virginia.
If the Northern leaders, gathering courage anew, should hurl their masses
upon Lee's retreating force, neither skill nor courage might avail to
save them. He suddenly beheld the situation in all its desperation;
he shivered from head to foot.
Dalton saw the muscles of Harry's face quivering, and he noticed a pallor
that came for an instant.
"I understand," he said. "I had thought of it already. If a Northern
general like Lee or Stonewall Jackson were behind us we might never get
back across the Potomac. It's somewhat the same position that we were in
after Antietam."
"But we've no Stonewall Jackson now to help us."
Again that lump rose in Harry's throat.
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