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which fell thundering from the sky above them, crushing the face of the iron-stained cliff and the lives of those who had clustered there to breathe a little.

"Amen," said Keenan, patting his gun.

Douglas crawled out of a hole in the rocks and drew himself up to the edge of the breastworks. Cleymore emerged from a shallow rifle-pit and walked slowly along the intrenchments, motioning his men back into their burrows.

"Because," he said, "a hole in the hill is worth two in your head-get into that ditch, Morris! Cunningham, if you don't duck that red head of yours, I'll dock it!"

"Captain Cleymore," said Douglas, lowering his field-glass, "two batteries have limbered up, and are trotting toward the cemetery-"

"May they trot into it, and stay there!" said Keenan, examining the wreck of an ammunition chest in the ditch.

Cleymore studied the bluff with his marine glasses for a while, then called to Keenan: "How many guns have you now?"

"Four," shouted Keenan from the ditch; "all my horses are shot except two mules" A burst of laughter cut him short-his own tattered artillerymen, to their credit, did not smile, but Douglas and Kellogg laughed and rows of grinning faces emerged from holes and pits along the ditch until Cleymore shouted, "Down!" and his infantry disappeared, chuckling. Keenan, red in the

face, turned to his battery-men who were running the guns forward, and put his own ragged shoulder to the wheel. Cleymore sat down on a stone and watched a lank artilleryman splicing the dented staff of the battery guidon.

"I guess that '11 dew, Capting," he drawled, holding the staff out to Cleymore, who took it and rubbed the polished wood with his sleeve.

"It will do, Pillsbury," he said, "where is O'Halloran ?'

"Shot in the stummick," said the private," and unable tew work."

"Dead?"

"I pre-sume likely he 's daid, sir," returned Pillsbury through his nose.

"I've got a man for the guidon," called Keenan from the ditch, and a fat freckled cannoneer waddled forward and stood at attention.

"Look out!" sang out Douglas from his post on the breastworks, and "Down!" cried Cleymore, as a shell rose in the air over them and the boom of a gun rolled across the river from the bluff. The scream of the shell ceased; a white cloud shot with lightning appeared in the air above them, and a storm of shrapnel swept the breastworks. Cleymore sprang to his feet, but the fat cannoneer remained on the ground.

"Get up," said Cleymore, cautiously, "Pillsbury lift him; is he dead?”

"I guess," said Pillsbury, "he's sufferin' from a hereditary disease."

"Eh?

What disease?" snapped Cleymore, stepping forward.

"I guess it's death," said Pillsbury, with an expressionless wink.

Cleymore stared at him through his eyeglasses, then turned on his heel.

"I wish," grumbled Keenan, "that the wounded would make less noise. Douglas, send them another bucket of water, will you? Is the surgeon dead?"

"Dying," said Kellogg,-" never mind, Douglas, I'll see to the water; keep your glass on their batteries; what are they doing now?"

"Nothing," replied Douglas, "wait a bit-ah! here come their sharpshooters again!"

"To hell with them!" muttered Keenan savagely, for his battery-men had been cruelly scourged by the sharpshooters, and he almost foamed with rage when he looked over into the ditch at the foot of the mound. The odour from the ditch had become frightful.

"Look down there, Captain," he called to Cleymore, his voice trembling with passion, but Cleymore only nodded sadly. He was watching something else. A figure in the uniform of a staff-officer, filthy with grime and sweat, had crawled through what was left of the covered bridge across the South Fork, and was wriggling his way toward the débris of Keenan's battery. Cleymore watched him with puckered eyes.

"What do you want, sonny?" he asked, as

the staff officer crept past him,-"orders? Give 'em to me-keep to the ground, you fool," he added, as a flight of bullets swept overhead. The staff-officer lifted a flushed face, scratched and smeared with dust and sweat, and attempted a salute.

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"Colonel Worth's compliments to Colonel Randal-" he began, but was interrupted by Cleymore: Colonel Randal 's in the ditch below with most of his regiment piled on top of him. What are your orders?-hold on to the bridge till hell freezes? I thought so,-I 'm Cleymore, Captain in the 10th New York Sharpshooters, yonder 's what's left of us, and there's two dozen of Colonel Randal's Rhode Islanders among 'em, too. Major Wilcox has got a hole in his face, and can't speak-you see what's left of Keenan's battery-four guns, and few to serve 'em except my riflemen. Is n't General Hooker in sight?"

The staff-officer raised his blue eyes to the wreck of the battery, and then looked questioningly at Cleymore. The latter lay moodily twisting and untwisting the stained leather thong whipped about his sword hilt.

"I'm ranking officer here," he said, "the rest are dead. My compliments to General Kempner, and tell him his orders shall be obeyed. Both bridges are mined. Murphy is watching for Longstreet-What are you shivering for?"

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Ague," said the staff-officer in a low voice. Cleymore spat out a mouthful of dust that a

bullet had flung in his face, and wiped his glasses "Who are you from, anyway?"

on his sleeve.

he demanded. Worth."

"I don't take orders from Colonel

"General Kempner is dead," said the staffofficer simply.

Keenan came up chewing a twig and whistling. Captain Cleymore," said the staff-officer, "my horse has been shot and Colonel Worth is waiting. Will you point out to me the quickest way back?"

"Back!" broke in Keenan, "you can't get back, my boy!"

"I must," said the youngster, without glancing at the artillery officer.

"Oh, if it's a case of must," said Cleymore indifferently, "come ahead," and he rose to his knees and peered across the swollen South Fork, now a vast torrent of mud.

Crack! Crack! rang the rifles from the opposite shore, and the little staff-officer's cap was jerked from his head and rolled down the embankment into the river. Keenan cursed.

"Come on, sonny," said Cleymore, scrambling down the embankment to the ditch. The ditch was choked with mangled bodies in blue, flung one over the other amid smashed gun-wheels, caissons, knapsacks, and rifles; and the staffofficer hesitated for an instant at the brink.

"Jump!" called Cleymore, "here! Get down behind this rock and keep your nose out of sight;

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