"There's a red line across my wrist, where a bullet passed, but it's nothing. Listen, what do you think of that, boys?"
A Southern band had gathered in the edge of the wood and was playing a wild thrilling air, the words of which meant nothing, but the tune everything:
"In Dixie's land I'll take my stand, To live and die for Dixie.
Look away! Look away!
Look away down South in Dixie."
"So we have taken their tune from them and made it ours!" St. Clair exclaimed jubilantly. "After all, it really belonged to us! We'll play it through the streets of Washington."
But Colonel Leonidas Talbot, who stood close by, raised his hand warningly.
"Boys," he said, "this is only the beginning."