that river again soon, and when they go back they'll be far less than a
hundred and twenty thousand!"

He spoke with no sign of exultation. Instead it was the boding tone of
an old prophet, rather than the sanguine voice of youth.

The fog deepened for a little while, and then some of the marching
columns were hidden. Out of the mists and gloom came the quick music
of many bands, playing the Northern brigades on to death. Then the fog
lifted again, and along the heights ran the blaze of the Southern cannon
as they sent shot and shell into the black masses of the Union troops
crowding by Fredericksburg.

But as the echoes of the shots died away, Harry heard again the bands
playing, and from the great Northern army below came mighty rolling
cheers.

"The battle is here now, Harry," said Dalton, "and this is the biggest
army we've ever faced."

The Union brigades, black in the somber winter dawn, seemed endless to
Harry. From the point where he stood the advancing columns as they
crossed the river looked almost solid. He knew that men must be falling,
dead or wounded, beneath the fire of the Southern guns, but the living
closed up so fast that he could not see any break in the lines.

"You can't see any sign of hesitation there," said Dalton. "The
Northern generals may doubt and linger, but the men don't when once they
get the word. What a tremendous and thrilling sight! It may be wicked
in me, Harry, but since there is a war and battles are being fought,