He and Stuart had bitterly quarrelled, and the general
had court-martialed the colonel. It is scarcely too much to say that
they had been deadly enemies.
For the first time now, since their collision, they met. But on this
day their enmity seemed dead. The two men about to die grasped each
other's hands.
"They are pressing you back, colonel!" exclaimed Stuart.
"Yes, general, I have but three skeleton squadrons! and you see their
force."
"You are right. You have done all that any man could. Can you hold this
cut?"
"I will try, general."
Their glances crossed. Never was Stuart's face kinder.
"If you say you will, you will do it! Hold this position to the last,
colonel."
"I'll hold it until I die, general."[1]
[Footnote 1: His words.]
With a pressure of the hand they parted.
Fifteen minutes afterward, Pate was dead. Attacked at once in front and
on both flanks in the road, his little force had been cut to pieces. He
fell with three of his captains, and his handful were scattered.
Stuart witnessed all, and his eye grew fiery.
"Pate has died the death of a hero!"[1] he exclaimed.
[Footnote 1: His words.]
"Order Wickham to dismount his brigade, and attack on the right!" he
added to Lieutenant Garnett, aid-de-camp. Twenty minutes afterward,
Wickham's men were seen advancing, and driving the enemy before them.
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