"General Longstreet." A hand was on his shoulder, shaking him awake. He opened his eyes, disoriented for a moment It was Alexander, his artillery chief.

"General Lee is awake. He wants you, sir."

Pete sat up on the blanket that he had spread out on the floor and stood up, stockinged feet hitting the cool, polished wood. All was quiet in the house, the pale glow of moonlight shining in through the high windows, casting soft blue shadows across the room.

Alexander motioned toward the parlor, across the hallway, where the gentle glow of a coal-oil lamp flickered. Whispered voices echoed. Leaving his comer of the dining room, where he had fallen asleep on the floor, Longstreet stepped out into the main corridor that ran down the length of the house. A dozen or more men were sprawled out several snoring loudly. A private quietly tiptoed down the hallway, carrying an empty coffeepot heading to the kitchen.

The old man had a firm and fast rule. If they occupied a house, try not to intrude too much. The upstairs was off-limits, the fine feathered beds being used even now by the owner and his family. It was amazing the number of men in the house, the hundred or more camped outside, and how quiet it was. The sleep of exhaustion, Pete realized. How the old man had the energy to be up now was beyond him. He pulled out his pocket watch and flipped it open. By the reflected moonlight, he saw it was a little after four. Lee had grabbed only three or four hours at most.

He ran a hand through his hair and half buttoned his uniform jacket His mouth felt gummy, sour tasting. How long since I bathed? He couldn't remember. A cool stream, a bar of soap, how nice that would be right now. And fresh clothes, a white boiled shirt, clean socks. God, how I must smell. He had left his boots back in the room, thought about putting them on, and then decided not to.

He crossed over to the parlor.

Lee, jacket off, shirtsleeves rolled up, was leaning over a table, map spread out Walter Taylor was with him and several staff. They looked up at Pete, and he could see the exhaustion in their eyes.

"You sent for me, General?" Pete asked. "What is it? Problems with Ewell?" and he looked over at Taylor. The young man was obviously on the point of collapse, and Pete sensed he had just come in from Gettysburg.

"No, sir," Taylor replied. "I left Gettysburg a little after ten at night. The last of Ewell's divisions, Johnson's, was starting to file onto the road. Stuart was demonstrating hard, and the Yankees still seemed to be in place."

"Then what is it?"

"A courier just came in from McLaws," Lee announced. "They've yet to take Westminster. He's stopped on the outskirts."

Pete said nothing.

"I understand you ordered him to take the town by dawn."

"Yes, sir, I did. If he stopped, there must be a reason."

"The courier from McLaws reports that a civilian came into McLaws's lines from Union Mills" As he spoke, he pointed to the map, and Pete leaned over to study the position.

"This civilians report, we have to give it the most serious consideration," Lee reported. "He claimed Stuart slept in his house on June thirtieth and agreed to stay in our camp, under guard, until Stuart would verify his veracity. He claims

Sedgwick's entire corps force-marched through, heading to Gettysburg on the morning of the second."

"That's good news at least," Pete offered. "It means Sedgwick must have marched twenty, maybe even thirty miles yesterday. His men are exhausted and now in Gettysburg. That accounts for all their corps."

"But Hancock is moving back down the road to Westminster," Lee replied.

Pete nodded.

"We had to expect they'd move sometime."

"I was hoping for eight to twelve more hours, but then again we were lucky to get this far without interference."

"Meade is no Burnside or McClellan," Pete said. "He's cautious, but he will react correctly once he's sure of the threat"

"This civilian reports that a courier came into Union Mills shortly after one in the morning. He reined in, asked for directions, and this civilian claims that he overhead the courier saying that the Union army was pulling back from Gettysburg, with Hancock in the lead, heading toward Westminster."

Pete nodded. It usually wasn't like Lee to kick up a fuss over the report of a lone civilian, especially one who was not a Virginian. But at this moment it had to be accepted.

"McLaws believed the report and sent it by fast rider back to me. He's asking for orders, afraid that he'll get tangled into a fight in Westminster. He reports thousands of troops there, including cavalry and some heavy artillery. He's concerned that he'll get engaged, and then Hancock will hit on the flank."

Pete shook his head.

"Hancock won't be there until well after dawn, if at all."

"We must assume they are stirring, General Longstreet. That had to be expected all along, and in fact we want them to."

"Yes, sir, once we've seized a good position."

'I want you to go up and straighten things out yourself."

"Yes,sir."

"McLaws also reports a vast supply train in Westminster. I want that seized. Then we can leave our wagon trains west of the mountains. We can send them back as far as Falling. Waters on the Potomac River for safety. That will free us up to move much more quickly. We will defeat the Union army using their own supplies."

'I’ll leave at once."

"And another thing, General."

"Sir?"

'Talk to this civilian closely. He claims to know the area. The report is that Meade was considering a defensive line along this creek," and again Lee pointed at the map. "Pipe Creek is its name. Several of my staff talked with sympathizers in town here, and they said the same thing, that there were rumors, or they had overheard conversations, that Meade wanted to draw us down here to fight If that is true, that meant he must have picked out a good position."

As he spoke, Lee traced out the creek that flowed north of Westminster and then curved south, just to the east of Taneytown.

"Apparently Meade sent Warren and Henry Hunt to survey it just before things started at Gettysburg. Our supposed friend stated that he watched Warren sketching a map and overheard a statement by Hunt talking about good fields of fire."

Pete nodded. The chief topographical engineer for the army and head of artillery surveying a defensive line? Both of those men knew ground. Given the right spot Hunt was usually brilliant with gun deployment and Pete had sensed his hand in the defense of that accursed Cemetery Hill only two days ago. Any ground they liked was worth looking into.

"I'll push McLaws in, then start moving people here," and Pete traced his finger over the map toward Union Mills. "I'll try and take a look myself, and men send a message back if this is the defensive line we want. What reinforcements can I expect?"

"I'm keeping Hood here," Lee announced. "He's

deployed north of town here, and there's been some skirmishing reported. It looks like Fifth Corps is approaching."

'That splits my command to pieces," Pete said. "McLaws on the right flank, Hood here in the center, and Pickett still twenty or more miles away."

"I know, but it can't be helped. I'm passing Hill's corps up to you. You will take direct command. I've already sent an order to that effect. Hill is too sick to continue."

"The entire corps?"

"Yes, that will give you at least four divisions to secure the right I think Meade will make his main thrust coming down the road to Baltimore. It's the shortest route back to their lines around Washington. They will look to turn our flank there, then slip around and into position. We must not allow that to happen.