He felt that he would like to thrash the general, or at least approach and tell him in plain words exactly what he thought him to be. It was criminal to stay calmly in one spot and make no effort to stay destruction. He loitered in a fever of eagerness for the division commander to apply to him.

As he warily moved about, he heard the general call out irritably: “Tompkins, go over an’ see Taylor, an’ tell him not t’ be in such an all-fired hurry; tell him t’ halt his brigade in th’ edge of th’ woods; tell him t’ detach a reg’ment—say I think th’ center ’ll break if we don’t help it out some; tell him t’ hurry up.”

A slim youth on a fine chestnut horse caught these swift words from the mouth of his superior. He made his horse bound into a gallop almost from a walk in his haste to go upon his mission. There was a cloud of dust.

A moment later the youth saw the general bounce excitedly in his saddle.

“Yes, by heavens, they have!” The officer leaned forward. His face was aflame with excitement. “Yes, by heavens, they’ve held ’im! They’ve held ’im!”

He began to blithely roar at his staff: “We’ll wallop ’im now. We’ll wallop ’im now. We’ve got ’em sure.” He turned suddenly upon an aide: “Here—you—Jones—quick—ride after Tompkins—see Taylor—tell him t’ go in—everlastingly—like blazes—anything.”

As another officer sped his horse after the first messenger, the general beamed upon the earth like a sun. In his eyes was a desire to chant a pæan. He kept repeating, “They’ve held ’em, by heavens!”

His excitement made his horse plunge, and he merrily kicked and swore at it. He held a little carnival of joy on horseback.