Yet the remainder, upheld by their cannon, returned a fire almost as
deadly. Rosecrans, absolutely fearless, stood in the very front where
the danger was greatest. A cannon ball blew off the head of his chief
of staff who stood by his side. "Many a brave fellow must fall!" cried
Rosecrans, a devoted Catholic. "Cross yourselves, and fire low and fast!"

Many a brave fellow did fall, but his men fired low and fast, and,
while the Southern troops charged again and again to the very mouths of
the cannon they were unable to break down the last desperate stand of
the Northern army. They had driven it back, but they had not driven it
back far enough. Then the sun set as it had set so often before on an
undecisive battle, terrible in its long list of the slain, but leaving
everything to be fought over again.

"They didn't beat us," said Dick as the firing ceased.

"No," said Colonel Winchester, "nor have we won a victory, but we're
saved. Thank God for the night!"

"They'll attack again to-morrow, sir," said Sergeant Whitley.

"Undoubtedly so," said Colonel Winchester, who felt at this moment not
as if he were speaking as colonel to sergeant, but as man to man, "and I
hope that our artillery will be ready again. It is what has saved us.
We have always been superior in that arm."

The colonel had spoken the truth, and the fact was also recognized by
Rosecrans, Thomas and the other generals. While they rectified their
lines in the darkness, the great batteries were posted in good positions,
and fresh gunners took the place of those who had been killed. Both