Not a word was said for a moment.

"We must push them," Grant said at last. "Grierson, ride with me for a while. Tell me everything that's happened over the last week. Ely, detail off some couriers, get word up to Sheridan. His men are already across. Push Longstreet and push him hard. Not one of them is to escape, not one of them. A courier over to Sykes as well."

He thought for a moment, the maps memorized.

'Tell Sykes I want him to swing wide. March toward Clarksburg, then due south to the Potomac at Darnestown. He will be our screen to the east, cutting off any attempt by Lee to move in that direction. A courier to Couch as well, that the militia is to follow Sykes and provide support. General Grierson, I suspect that is the route Lee might try to take. Once we are clear of this area, ride with all haste to Sykes with your men, push ahead of him to Clarksburg and down to Darnestown and from there to the canal.

"You know how to move fast, and I want that now. I'm behind Lee and will act as the barrier. You and Sykes are to be the pushers, bringing him back toward me. One of my staff will sketch out a map for you as we ride. Do not let Lee slip off to the east. His one chance is to slip past you and Sykes, perhaps make a lunge on Washington or to find a crossing place further down the river. I expect you will prevent that at all costs."

Grierson grinned and nodded.

"Better orders than when I rode through Mississippi," Grierson replied.

Grant nodded. This was the kind of officer he liked and trusted. Grierson would make sure, in what would be a forced march of twenty-five miles or more, that the back door was definitely slammed shut.

"Finally a telegram message to Hancock," Grant said, looking back at Ely, who was again all business, not an indicator at all of what had transpired but minutes ago. "Tell him to anticipate that Lee will now try to shift east and to ensure continued blockage of any potential crossing."

The group set off, riding at a slow trot, weaving around more bodies, past the ruins of the McCausland Farm, the hospital area around Dr. Field's house where McPherson had died, several thousand Confederates wounded around the house.

They rode on as dawn broke, the rain having stopped, coiling mist rising from the fields and woods.

"Push them," Grant repeated again, like a mantra. "Keep pushing them."

Headquarters, Army of Northern Virginia Near Barnsoille, Maryland

6:00 A.M.

General Longstreet rode into the encampment, mud splashing up from his mount as he trotted along the road. Troops were encamped to either side, a few had pitched tents, most had just collapsed in the open fields and were now sitting around smoky campfires, cooking their breakfasts.

Lee's headquarters area loomed up out of the mist, flag hanging limp, tents pitched in a half circle, awning canopying the middle, a knot of officers gathered round the.fire. They looked up as Longstreet approached, coming to attention, saluting.

"The general?" Longstreet asked. "Still asleep," one of them replied softly. "He was up most of the night," another interjected, as if to apologize for the general sleeping so late.

Longstreet said nothing, taking a cup of coffee offered by one of the staff.

Walter came out of a tent and approached Longstreet. "He's awake, sir, and begs your indulgence. He'll be with you in a few minutes." "Thank you, Walter."

Longstreet sipped on his coffee, looking around at the staff. All were silent. Gone was the levity, the high spirits, the usual gibes back and forth, the sense of confidence. None of them had changed uniforms or had them cleaned in days.

"General Longstreet."

Lee was standing at the entry to his tent, beckoning him to come in. He did not have his uniform jacket on, nor vest, having obviously just been awakened.

Longstreet went into the tent and sat down in a camp chair Lee motioned him to while he sat back down on his cot.

"Your report, sir," Lee asked without greeting or the usual polite small talk before getting down to business.

"Sir, I started the withdrawal just after dark. The last troops pulled off the line at around midnight. The head of my column is within two or three miles of here. The tail of it most likely back near the Buckeystown ford. I regret to tell you, sir, there's bad news."

"And that is?"

"Sir, I abandoned over a hundred guns. The pieces we captured at Union Mills. All of them were spiked and wheels smashed."

"I expected that," Lee said. "They were of use at the moment but are a hindrance now."

"I thought so, too, sir. That frees up several thousand infantry who are back in the ranks. The ammunition, though, sir."

"You did not get all the ammunition off the trains?"

Longstreet shook his head.

"Why not, sir?" Lee asked sharply.

"Sir, we are short of horses, transport. I had to strip out an artillery battalion of its horses in order to move the pontoon train. At best we managed to retrieve about a million and a half rounds of small arms ammunition, maybe five thousand artillery rounds, before being forced to set the rest afire."

"Yes, I saw the fires," Lee said quietly. "But why?"

"That's the other bad news, sir. Grierson is at our rear. He came down onto the B and O line late yesterday afternoon with at least two brigades of cavalry. I fear Armistead might be cut off. I've not heard from him since nightfall. Sykes, with a corps strength, has pushed up and is in Urbana."

"That's less than ten miles from here," Lee replied.

"Yes, sir, I know."

Lee looked over at one of Jed Hotchkiss's maps on his field desk.

"Then the only ammunition we have is what our men are carrying, the small reserves at division level, and what you salvaged."

"Yes, sir."

"Enough, though, for one good fight if need be," Lee said, and he forced a smile.

"If required, sir. Yes, sir."

"The pontoon train. Everything rests on that now."

"Sir, it's proving difficult. Even on the best of roads they are difficult to move. The going has been slow. I estimate they are five miles back on our line of march."

Lee sighed, his gaze returning to the map. "We can still retrieve this situation, General," he said.

Longstreet did not reply.

"Do you believe me, General Longstreet?"

Pete looked into Lee's eyes. The gaze was intense, filled with determination, and yet again he found he could indeed believe in this man.

"Yes, sir. If we move swiftly and with daring. Yes, I think we can get back across the Potomac."

"Not just back across the Potomac, General. In the last two months we have dealt repeated blows to the North from which they can ill recover. This one reversal shall not stop us. We hold the line of the Potomac through the winter and into next spring, and surely their political coalition shall collapse."

Pete did not reply for a moment.

"Do you believe that, sir?" Lee asked, and Pete detected that there was a questioning in Lee's voice, a wish to be reaffirmed in his confidence.

"Sir, the first concern, at the moment, is to get this army safely out of Maryland. Then I will think of other things."

Lee finally smiled.

"Fair enough."

Lee pulled Hotchkiss's map over.

"We must move swiftly this day. You take your column, head down toward Poolesville. Then see if there is any chance we can secure Edwards Ferry. I know they are dug in there, but if in your estimate it can be stormed, do so. If not, move parallel to the river and find an appropriate place to cross. I will take the rest of the army and advance toward Damestown and secure our flank in that direction. Grant's forces are worn, but the men coming down on our rear under Sykes must be turned, if possible defeated, and driven back. Succeed in that and we have bought some time."