"
"I thank you," said Harry very earnestly, "and I'm truly sorry,
Mr. Shepard, that you and I are on different sides."
"I suppose it's too late for you to come over to the Union and the true
cause."
Harry laughed.
"You know, Mr. Shepard, there are no traitors in this war."
"I know it. I was merely jesting."
He slipped into the underbrush and disappeared. Harry confessed to
himself once more that he liked Shepard, but he felt more strongly than
ever that it had become a personal duel between them, and they would meet
yet again in violence.
That night he had little to do. It was a typical May night in Virginia,
clear and beautiful with an air that would have been a tonic to the
nerves, had it not been for the bitter smoke and odors that yet lingered
from the battle of the Wilderness.
Before dawn the scouts brought in a rumor that there was a heavy movement
of Federal troops, although they did not know its meaning. It might
portend another flank march by Grant, but a mist that had begun to rise
after midnight hid much from them. The mist deepened into a fog, which
made it harder for the Southern leaders to learn the meaning of the
Northern movement.
Just as the dawn was beginning to show a little through the fog, Hancock
and Burnside, with many more generals, led a tremendous attack upon the
Southern right center.
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