Noel Curtis was standing in front of the colonel's tent listening to the word of that anxious officer, who in response to the request of the chaplain was showing the young soldiers the pardon received from the President.

It was in Noel's mind to inquire concerning the fate of Levi. His own feeling about accepting the pardon which had been offered was unchanged, but in company with Dennis he had gone to the colonel's tent at the suggestion of the chaplain, and with interest was listening to the words of that officer.

Suddenly the clatter of hoofs was heard, and as the men turned sharply about to ascertain the cause, they saw an orderly approaching with the information that the division at once was to advance.

Hastily positions were assigned to Dennis and Noel, who were to report with one of the New York regiments, and the marching orders speedily put other thoughts from their minds.

Almost before the men realized what had taken place, they found themselves marching along a dusty road with the air cool and the confidence of the leaders manifest in many ways that appealed to the boys in blue. Naturally there were rumors of the battle which was expected, but so many similar reports had been current that some of their power to arouse the interest of the army was gone.

Several times the excitement of the advancing troops was increased by the sight of little squads of rebel prisoners that had been taken by the cavalry skirmishing in advance.

One picture appealed with special force to Noel. The horses of the officers of late had fared poorly at the hands of the quartermaster, and now, as the troops halted near a barn, Noel saw several of the half-starved animals within the building enjoying the first oats they had received for days.

As Noel glanced behind him he saw a long column of troops winding around the summit of the mountain over which he and his comrades had just passed. The muskets of the men were glistening in the sunlight. The lines resembled a mighty coil of armed men extending far down the side of the mountain. Indeed, far beyond the place where Noel was standing, it could be seen, and was lost to view only by the winding of the road in the distance. It was the finest view of a marching army he had ever had.

In the loft of the barn were a score or more of Confederates. Some of these unfortunate men were sick, others had been wounded in the recent cavalry skirmishes, and had been left by their comrades as they had fallen back before the advance of the boys in blue. A guard or two was attending to their wants, but every man as he peered out of the windows seemed wan and pale, and the marks of the many privations and the heavy fatigue to which they had been exposed were plain on every side.

The farmer, near whose barn the line had halted, explained that a large body of the rebels had passed his house not long before. The men were ill-clothed and seemed to be in want, he explained. The report of the man, however, did not deceive any of the Yankee soldiers. They were well aware that the "Johnnies" were fierce fighters, and in spite of their scarcity of food and clothing were standing up bravely and persistently. It was Dennis one time who made the remark that "these men might not be inspired of God, but they certainly were possessed of the divil."

Neither of the young soldiers dreamed of the fearful events which were soon to follow. Whether prejudice or ignorance, truth or falsehood, were behind the struggle, there was no question about the tremendous earnestness of both armies.

The Union army, when it entered the little city of Frederick, was surprised as well as delighted at the ovation which it received from many of the people. Shouts and songs and cheers greeted their arrival and continued during their march through the city.

In the doorways of some of the houses girls and young women stood with pails of clear, sparkling water. Many of these enthusiastic girls held glasses in their extended hands inviting the thirsty and dust-covered soldiers to drink.

It was Dennis who said glibly to Noel, when a halt was made beyond the limits of the town, "I can't for the life of me tell what made me so thirsty this afternoon. I think I must have stopped a dozen times for a drink of water."

"Yes, I noticed it," said Noel demurely. "I have never seen anything like this dust. No, and it doesn't seem as if the dust was all that was new, either."

"There's one thing I don't see, though," said Dennis.

"What's that?"

"I don't see any of the big bugs, like the others, standing in the doorways and giving water to our boys as they passed."

"I'm not surprised at that. I don't suppose the people who have money or own slaves can be very enthusiastic over our coming down here to set their slaves free or destroy their property."

"Indade, and I niver once thought o' that," said Dennis.

Near sunset the army halted again, and, wearied by their long march, many of the men flung themselves upon the dust-covered grass by the roadside or underneath the projecting branches of some large trees, and sought a short respite from their labors.

The day was Sunday the 14th of September, 1862. To Noel, his thoughts at such a time naturally recalled the manner in which the day was spent in his far-away home. There all was peace and quiet. About him now, however, were armed men and officers riding past and cannon were being dragged up the dusty road. All these things presented a striking contrast to his vision of peace and quiet.

Noel saw that every one of his comrades was sleeping, not even being aroused by the passing of a body of cavalry or by the stamping of the horses of their officers.

He, too, was about to place his knapsack upon the ground for a pillow when, glancing up the road, to his surprise he saw Dennis running toward him, dragging in his hand a large fallen branch of a tree.

That the young Irishman was about to perpetrate some prank Noel was convinced. Dennis was simply irrepressible. The fatigues of the day, or the thoughts of the battle, in which it was commonly believed the army was about to enter, did not seem to check the exuberant spirits of Dennis O'Hara.

As he approached the place where Noel was seated, suddenly the young Irishman swiftly entered the road and, stamping loudly upon the ground, began to run close to the place where many of the soldiers were sleeping.

Adding to the confusion, Dennis began to shout, "Whoa! Whoa, there! Whoa!" He did not check his own advance, however, and running swiftly, dragged the branch he was carrying over the bodies and faces of some of the sleeping men.

Instantly every one of the soldiers who had felt the touch of the sweeping branch or heard the sound of Dennis's voice sat erect, and then, convinced that a body of horsemen were trampling upon them, quickly leaped to their feet and ran from the place. In spite of their weariness a shout greeted the prank of Dennis and caused the young Irishman to laugh loudly.

"They make me think," said Dennis, "of the old sport who took his gun and traveled two days over the brakes and ferns and up and down the mountains huntin' for a bear. Just at the close of the second day he found the footprints of the old fellow and pretty soon afterward he heard a growl from a rocky ledge that was too close to him for comfort. The man stopped and scratched his head, and turnin' to his brother, who was close behind him, he said, 'Now, look out! These tracks are gettin' a little fresh! I believe I don't want any bear after all, so I'll go back home.' It's a lot of brave men we have been hearin' talk about comin' up to the front and drivin' the Johnnies through every gap in these mountains, but whin a poor harmless boy comes along and shakes a branch of a tree over thim, they are all so scared they don't even stop to find out whether 'tis a Yank or a Reb that's chasin' thim."

It was not long before the march was resumed. The turnpike over which the soldiers moved was broad and smooth, and as the men passed through the rolling country its contrast with that which they had seen in their campaign in the Peninsula was marked by every one.

At the next halt the chaplain, who had proved himself such a warm friend to both of the young soldiers, approached the place where the two boys were seated by the roadside.

"That's General Burnside and his staff over yonder," he explained to Noel. "General Hooker is to lead our division."

"There's going to be a battle surely, isn't there?" inquired Noel.

"I think there is no doubt of it," replied the chaplain, "and I have a strange feeling about this engagement. I know I shall be shot."

"Nonsense!" protested Noel.

"But I shall be. I was shot when I was on the Peninsula almost the first chance I got. I was only slightly wounded there, but this time I shall be killed. I know it."

"Shure, 'tis only a foolish notion that's got into your head," protested Dennis. "Get rid of it, yer Riverence! Cheer up! Shure, you'll come out all right."

"I wish I might think so. If I fall I shall fall doing my duty."

"Niver a doubt about that. Every man of us knows that you won't be shot in the back."

The kind-hearted man soon passed on, but the impression he had made upon the mind of Noel was one which the boy was unable to shake off. He, too, was fearful of the coming contest. He was doing his utmost to repress the feeling and was striving hard to hold himself to the line which had been mapped out for him.

Apparently there were no rebel battalions now threatening the passage. No cannon warned the advancing army from the narrow entrance between the hills which they were approaching. These hills on either side of the pass now were crowned with the glories of the approaching sunset. A few clouds were seen in the sky, and in the distance occasional quick rushes of smoke-puffs arose just above the trees and then the sight was followed by the sound of a heavy boom.

Far to the left there were other puffs, and as they were faintly seen in the distance there were quick responses from the Union artillery.

"Shure," muttered Dennis, "the artillery is beyond and with the help of the infantry they'll drive the Johnnies out o' the way."

A rattle of musketry only faintly heard confirmed the words of the young Irish soldier.

Above them and beyond were forests. Unseen foes without doubt were lurking within the shelter of the great trees. Even now the opposing armies might be preparing to rush madly against each other. Somehow the smooth white turnpike began to lose its peaceful aspect in the eyes of Noel Curtis.

The toiling soldiers, climbing a steep ascent now, were soon aware that between them and the main ascent of South Mountain was an extensive valley.

There were sharp calls from the officers, the line of march was changed from the open turnpike, and the men approached a cornfield upon the hillside.

In the midst of the passage through the field suddenly the great guns of the Confederates opened upon the line with solid shot. Down the hill dashed the army, then swiftly crossing the little valley, began the steady climb of the mountain-side.

A few yards from the base of the mountain was a fence. Below the fence the ground was cleared, while above it the face of the mountain was covered with rocks and trees.

Steadily and surely the boys in blue advanced, and when they had arrived within fifty yards of the place they were seeking, a rapid fire of musketry was opened upon them by the Confederates, who lay concealed behind the fence.

Bullets whistled about their ears. There were shouts and calls from the leaders and loud and prolonged cheers from their willing followers. With a wild shout the men dashed forward. Indeed, their course was almost upward, so steep was the ascent. Volley after volley was poured in upon them, but as yet the brave boys did not heed them and still rushed madly forward.

The Confederates, astonished by the recklessness and the apparent disregard of their bullets, began to give way. Successfully the advancing soldiers gained the fence and then instantly sprang over it. To their surprise, however, their enemies re-formed among the rocks and renewed the fight with unshaken determination.

It was at this time that the chaplain, who had shown his friendship for the boys, accompanied by a young lieutenant, was just springing over the fence when a bullet struck him and he fell back upon the ground.