When he returned he was humming "The dew lay on the blossom," and
following him was Sweeney--the same old Sweeney!--ever mild, courteous,
almost sad, doffing his cap, saluting with simple grace, and tuning his
banjo.
In a moment the tent, the wooded knoll, the whole vicinity was ringing
with the uproarious notes of the mirth-inspiring banjo; and Sweeney was
chanting, as only that great master _could_ chant, the mighty epic of
the sabreurs of Stuart:--
"If you want to have a good time
Jine the cavalry,
Bully Boys, hey!"
The staff and couriers quickly assembled, the servants were grouped in
the starlight, the horses beneath the boughs turned their intelligent
heads--and leading in the uproarious chorus might have been heard the
sonorous and laughing voice of Stuart.
VI.
STUART'S INSTINCT.
The festivities were kept up until nearly midnight.
Then Stuart yawned; said with a laugh, "Good morning, gentle-_men_" as
was his habit when he wished to work; and the tent was soon deserted.
I retired to rest, but at three in the morning felt a hand upon my
shoulder.
"The general is going to move, colonel, and wishes to see you," said
the orderly.
I rose, made my brief toilet, and went toward Stuart's tent where a
light was shining. He was writing busily at his desk, as fresh and gay
as on the preceding evening.
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