"The two colonels have left the wagon and are riding with their men.
See, how erect they sit."

"I do see them, and they're a good sight to see," said Harry. "I hope
they'll live to finish that chess game."

"And fifty years afterward, too."

A shout of joy burst from the road, and a tall young man, slender,
dark and handsome, rushed out, and, seizing the hands of first one and
then the other, shook them eagerly, his dark eyes glittering with happy
surprise.

"Kenton! Dalton!" he exclaimed. "Both alive! Both well!"

It was young Julien de Langeais, the kinsman of Lieutenant-Colonel Hector
St. Hilaire, and he too was unhurt. The lads returned his grasp warmly.
They could not have kept from liking him had they tried, and they
certainly did not wish to try.

"You don't know how it rejoices me to see you," said Julien, speaking
very fast. "I was sad! very sad! Some of my best friends have perished
back there in those inhospitable Pennsylvania hills, and while the band
was playing it made me think of the homes they will never see any more!
Don't think I'm effusive and that I show grief too much, but my heart has
been very heavy! Alas, for the brave lads!"

"Come, come, de Langeais," said Harry, putting his hand on his shoulder.
"You've no need to apologize for sorrow. God knows we all have enough
of it, but a lot of us are still alive and here's an army ready to fight