Not a hand was raised, and the bold young captain laughed.

"I don't need to put the other side of the question," he said to Harry.
"They're as eager as I am to scorch the faces of the Yankees."

The order was given to turn and ride. The "men," not one of whom was
over twenty-five, obeyed it eagerly, and galloped for the village,
every heart throbbing with the desire for action. They were all from the
rich farms in the valleys. Splendid horsemen, fine marksmen, and alive
with youth and courage, no deed was too great for them. Harry was proud
to ride with them, and he told more of the story to Sherburne as they
covered the short distance to the village.

"Old Jack would order us to do just what we're doing," said Sherburne.
"He wants his officers to obey orders, but he wants them to think, too."

Harry saw his eyes flash again, and something in his own mind answered
to the spirit of adventure which burned so brightly in this young man.
He looked over the troop, and as far as he could see the faces of all
were flushed with the same hope. He knew with sudden certainty that the
Union forces would never take that warehouse and its precious contents.
These were the very flower of that cavalry of the South destined to
become so famous.

"You know the village?" said Sherburne to Harry.

"Yes, I passed there last night."

"What defense has it?"