“Officer! Didn’t you know? Fellow called Captain Tumlin. A good one, too! First-class fellow. Got captured at New Orleans and has been in Yankee jails ever since, but he managed to escape and reach our lines. Capital fellow! Richmond assigned him to your battalion for the duration of the campaign, so I kept him here. Seemed pointless to send him all the way to Richmond while you were coming here. He’s even got some men for you! Skulkers and coffee-chasers, of course, every last one of them, but you must be used to that kind of scum. I shall be sorry to lose Billy Tumlin. He’s an amusing fellow, capital company. Here we are.” He found Starbuck’s orders and tossed them up onto the counter. “I hope to God you’re not staying in the town,” he added anxiously. “I’m hard put to feed the men I’ve got without feeding more.”

Starbuck slit open the orders and scanned them. He smiled, cracking the sweaty dust that was caked onto his face. “Good,” he said, then, in response to the colonel’s raised eyebrow, explained his pleasure. “We’re assigned to Swynyard’s Brigade.”

The name meant nothing to the colonel. “You’re leaving today, I trust?” the colonel inquired anxiously.

“We’re either to wait here or at Charlestown, whichever’s convenient, for more orders.”

“You’ll want to be in Charlestown then,” the colonel said emphatically. “That’s a very pleasant town. A long day’s march from here, but you’ll have to make it sooner or later.”

“We will?”

“You will if you’re going north. Charlestown is just this side of Harper’s Ferry. Get there early, Major, and you’ll have first pick of the bivouacs before the rest of the army arrives. And first pick of the girls. If there are any girls left, of course, which there might not be. Place has been picked over by both sides, but it’s still very fair, very fair.”

“Any Yankees there?”

The colonel pursed his lips and shrugged. “Maybe a few. Doubtless the Harper’s Ferry garrison scavenge for corn thereabouts.”

In other words, Starbuck thought, the very pleasant Charlestown was Yankee-haunted, stripped clean of supplies, and half deserted. “We’ll march this morning,” Starbuck said, much to the colonel’s relief. “You can give us someone to show us the way out of town?”

“No need, my dear fellow. Straight up the road. Straight up. Can’t miss your way.”

Starbuck pocketed the orders and went out to the sidewalk and called Potter to him. “You’re a rogue, Potter.”

“Yes, sir.”

“So be a rogue now and find a wagon. Any wagon. You’re allowed to commandeer civilian vehicles, but you must sign for it so the owner can get reimbursement from Richmond, understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then you collect ammunition and follow us north. Take a dozen of your men to load and haul.” He gave Potter the two pieces of paper. “Lucifer!”

“Major?” The boy ran up to Starbuck.

“Captain Potter is on a looting expedition, and you’re good at that so you can help him. I want a wagon, anything on wheels that we can fill with cartridges. If the townspeople see soldiers combing the streets they’ll hide anything valuable, but they won’t notice you, so go and spy on them.”