But not the whole army as yet.  Beyond the Rappahannock were three corps,—­the Sixth, the Fifth, and the Second, under Sedgwick, Sykes, and Warren,—­which General Meade had thrown forward on the morning of this day, in the belief that Lee was retiring.  Until these troops should succeed in recrossing to the north side of the river, a strong force must hold the bridges.

Thomas had left my gun.  The Doctor shouldered it.  I think this was the first gun he had ever touched.  He took me with him.

Long lines of wagons and cannon were driving northward and eastward on every road.  The Doctor said little.  Tears were in his eyes and sobs in his voice.  I had never seen him thus.

We reached the Sanitary Camp.  The tents were already struck, and the wagons ready to move.

“Stay here one moment, my boy,” the Doctor said.

He left me and approached an ambulance, into which I could not see; all its curtains were down.  He raised the corner of a curtain, remained there while one might count a hundred—­or a million—­and came back to me.

“Now get in, Jones,” he said, preparing to mount his horse.

I got in.

By my side was a woman ... weeping.

* * * * *

Lee’s guns are grumbling in all the southwest quadrant of the horizon.  In the west Gregg’s cavalry impedes the advance of A.P.  Hill; in the south Fitzhugh Lee is pressing hard upon Buford.

The retreat continues; I hold a woman’s hand in mine.

* * * * *

Past the middle of an autumn night, where thick forests added to the darkness fitfully relieved by the fires of hasty bivouacs, there sat, apart from cannon and bayonets and sleeping battalions, a group of three.

One was a man of years and of thought and of many virtues—­at least a sage, at least a hero.

One was a woman, young and sweet and pure and devoted.

One was a common soldier.