“Good!” shouted Tom.  “We shall have a battle before night.”

“Perhaps not,” added Hapgood.  “It takes the cat a good while to catch the mouse, even after she smells the critter.”

“Why don’t we march?  What are we stopping here for?” said Tom, impatiently.

“They say Smith’s division has got in ahead of us.  Keep cool, Tom; never be in a hurry for a battle.  Some of us that stand here now won’t be alive in twenty-four hours from now; for I don’t believe the rebs are going to let us have it all our own way,” said the veteran.

“Nor I,” added Fred Pemberton.  “I shall be killed in this fight.”

“How do you know, Fred?” demanded Hapgood, sternly.

“Of course I don’t know, but I feel it in my bones that I shall fall in the first battle.”

“Your bones ain’t no guide at all.  I know something about this business, and I’ve seen croakers afore to-day.  Don’t talk about being killed, or even hit.  Be ready to die, do your duty like a soldier, and leave all the rest to your Maker,” said the veteran, solemnly.

“I don’t have any such feeling as that.  I know I shan’t be killed,” laughed Ben.  “The bullet hasn’t been cast yet that will stop my wind.”

“Perhaps it has, my boy.  It may be in some rebel soldier’s cartridge box over yonder, even now.  I tell you, boys, you don’t know any thing about it.  Just afore we went in at Cerry Gordy, a feller by my side said the same thing you did, Ben; and he was the first man that went down.  I tried to pick him up, and do something for him, but he was stone dead.  I tell you, Ben, you don’t know any thing about it.  Leave it all to the Almighty.”

“Pooh, uncle!” sneered Ben, trying to laugh down the solemn words of the old man.  “Don’t you think we’d better have a prayer meetin’ before we go in?”

“I think we should fight the better for it, for he who trusts in God don’t fear death.”

But it was evident that the words of Hapgood, especially the incident of Cerro Gordo, had made a deep impression upon the mind of the thoughtless young man.  Though the division did not move for three hours, he was very silent and sober.  He seemed to feel that he had been tempting Providence by his bold speech, and even expressed his regret to Tom for what he had said.

It was dark when the order to march was given.  The night was exceedingly gloomy, and the rain poured down upon the devoted army, as it moved forward to do its great work.  Hour after hour, in the deep darkness and the pouring rain, the men struggled through the mire, expecting every moment to be hurled upon the rebel battalions, or to meet the impetuous onset of the foe.

Between ten and eleven, when the men were nearly worn out by the exhausting labors of the march, they were ordered to halt in the road, and bivouac for the rest of the night.  What a time and what a place for repose!  They could only wrap themselves up in their wet blankets, and stretch themselves upon the ground, soaked with water, and with the rain still pouring down upon them.  But they slept, and enjoyed their rest, for Nature was imperative in her demands.