I could hear the
thunder of the guns, continuous, almost deafening, even at this
distance; could see the black, drifting smoke, and even the struggling
figures. We were almost within the zone of fire already. Men were down
in the ranks yonder, and a stricken horse lay just within the gate. Back
and forth, riding like mad, aides dashed out of the choking powder
fumes, in endeavor to hasten up the reserves. Even as I watched one fell
headlong from his saddle, struck dead by a stray bullet. I was soldier
enough to understand. Within ten minutes Chambers would be out there,
hurling his fresh troops against the exhausted Federal advance, while
those fellows, now fighting so desperately yonder, would fall back in
reserve. Could Chambers hold them? Could he check that victorious onrush
of blue--those men who had fought their way five bloody miles since
daybreak? I could not tell; it would be a death grapple worthy of the
gods, and the Hardy house would be in the very vortex. Whether it was
destined also to become a charnel house, a shambles, depended on the
early coming of those other, unseen men toiling up that black ravine.
Then suddenly there recurred to my memory that Major Hardy and his
daughter still remained within. They had not departed with the others,
yet in the stress and excitement their presence had slipped my mind.
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