The Southern twilight turned swiftly into night and, coming from his lair,
Dick walked boldly toward the town. He had eaten nothing since morning,
but he had not noticed it, until this moment, when he began to feel a
little faintness. He resolved that Vicksburg should supply him. It was
curious how much help he expected of Vicksburg, a hostile town.
He saw lights soon both to right and to left and he strengthened his
soul. He knew that he must be calm, but alert and quick with the right
answer. With his singular capacity for meeting a crisis he advanced into
the thick of danger with a smiling face, even as his great ancestor,
Paul Cotter, had often done.
His calm was of short duration. There was a rushing sound, something
struck violently, and a tremendous explosion followed. Fire flashed
before Dick's eyes, pieces of red hot metal whistled past his head,
earth spattered him and he was thrown to the ground.
He sprang up again, understanding all instantly. A shell from his own
army had burst near him, and he had been thrown down by the concussion.
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