Gordon stopped short; his sparse beard appeared to bristle. He turned his horse down the ditch. The staff officer with the Methodist face spurred quickly after him. Over his shoulder, the major called to the two wondering foot-scouts, “You men fall in with the Thirteenth until we bivouac!” and then went on, jolt and squeak and rattle, with the hoofs of the general’s horse tossing wads of mud at him. The other officers saluted, bowed toward the gate, and racked behind.

The girl said, rapidly, “I don’t know why I interrupted him. They were not my horses—they were the Fannings’… I was very rude, wasn’t I? Wasn’t I rude, Dan?” she kept demanding. A thin laugh was shaking in her throat, and her lips were blue.

He muttered, “Come. Come into the house, for pity’s sake. I’ll get you some wine. Oh, my dear,” he cried, “if I were able to stop this whole thing! And we’ve seen no horrors; only the pageant, only—”

Mr. Fanning came hurrying through the yard; they could hear his gasping approach before he rounded the corner of the house. His shapeless pantaloons were drenched to the knees by the wet field-grass. “Thank heaven you are safe, girl! I came for you as soon as I could leave mother. Gretel is back from Spanglers’.” He demanded: “Daniel, why didn’t you bring Mrs. Fanning home?”

“It’s safe enough … Mrs. Fanning was upset about your horses, and she—”

The older man nodded. “Daniel, our administration has shown once and for all time, what it thinks of Pennsylvania. Permitting this—these—” Limply, he motioned toward the last company which shuffled along the road … The long approaching thunder was all around, now. “Wagons!” Bedford Fanning cried. He kept kneading his blue-veined hands together. “Wagons by the score! Look there—daughter, Daniel!—coming down the hill. They must have looted Chambers-burg and Hagerstown of every last thing. And I have six thousand dollars’ worth of boots and leather in the factory, this very moment!” His Adam’s apple was jerking above his disordered stock and loosened collar. “If Tyler knew—”

Feverishly, he began to work his hands from pocket to pocket. “Tyler … ah, yes. The mail came. Somewhere I have letters. Two, from Tyler. They are marked on the same day, at Baltimore. Ah.” He brought them out, dog-eared oblongs. “One is addressed to you, daughter, and one to his mother and me.”

“Thank you,” the girl said. She took the envelope; she did not look at it; the gray-topped wagons rumbled, and Mr. Fanning’s voice had crept up until it was a screech.

Bale took his arm. “Did—Mrs.—Fanning—tell—you—colt—buggy?”