Bale crossed the road, meaning to turn down a side lane toward the Duffey house. But somewhere, back near the Diamond, there was a growing hubbub. He looked back. People beneath the gaudy lanterns at Deffenbaughs’ were all looking west; some of them were walking rapidly away from the porch. Younger men were running. Dan stood there. This was an unnatural realm of nervous crescendo, a perverted village where he had never lived before. The war had done this. It was the fault of—

Somebody roared, “News! Big news, folks!” and a light bobbed out into the middle of the highway. There was no help for it; he had to go back, of course. News. News. He walked as fast as he could. He did not begin to run until he was past Deffenbaughs’ and with every stride he hated himself for running.

A middle-aged man in a plaid shirt sat in a gig. Barney Endsor: for twenty years a justice of the peace, a clerk, an assessor. His horse shivered in a plaster of foam and dirt, and a bunch of leaves had been caught inside the gig shaft. A younger man stood with one foot on the hub and held a lamp high in the air, a yellow torch with furious insects battering against it.

Endsor was spreading a paper in his hands. “Louder,” people demanded. “Louder, Barney!” Barney’s voice lifted tautly: “And undoubtedly the greatest cavalry engagement of the Rebellion, when Federal cavalry under General Pleasonton’s orders crossed the river near—”

“What’s it all about?” Dan asked of a boy beside him. The crowd nudged tight, filling in on all sides. The tired horse shied back. Whoa, blame you …

The boy said, “Battle. A big battle. Barney’s just drove in with a Philadelphia paper.”

“Our Troops Victorious. Stuart routed and driven back on Culpeper. There was sharp firing at Beverly Ford and Brandy Station Tuesday, but the scope of the battle was not known for some hours. Now it appears that the timely advent of the Nationals has prevented the rebels from embarking on a raid which may have been aimed at Washington, or possibly a reconnaisance in force north of the Potomac into Maryland. It was held more probable, however, that the rebel general Lee was concentrating his cavalry for the purpose of—”

Barney kept pausing to spit against the dashboard. He was pleased at the reception, the riotous interest which Gettysburg had accorded him. His red hands trembled as they held the wadded edges of newspaper. It wasn’t often that a man driving into town with news like this could find a ready-made audience in Deffenbaughs’ yard or anywhere else.