In front of that mournful forest, and within its edge,
more than ten thousand men had fallen. He had no doubt that Warner was
among them.
His sense of direction was good, and, as his blurred faculties regained
their normal keenness, he could mark the exact line by which they had
advanced, and the exact line by which they had retreated. Warner
unquestionably lay near the edge of the wood and he must seek him.
Were it the other way, Warner would do the same.
Dick stood up. He was no longer dizzy, and every muscle felt steady and
strong. He did not know what had become of Colonel Winchester, and his
comrades still lay upon the ground in a deep stupor.
It could not be a night of order and precision, with every man numbered
and in his place, as if they were going to begin a battle instead of just
having finished one, and Dick, leaving his comrades, walked calmly toward
the wood. He passed one sentinel, but a few words satisfied him, and he
continued to advance. Far to right and left he still heard the sound of
firing and saw the flash of guns, but these facts did not disturb him.
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