"You feel about it as I do," said Sherburne. "We'll never come back into
the North."

"It isn't merely a feeling within me, I know it."

"So do I, but we can still hold Virginia."

"I think so, too. Come, we'd better turn. There goes the field of
Gettysburg. The rain and mist have blotted it out."

The panorama, the most terrible upon which Harry had ever looked,
vanished in the darkness. 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."