Only a soldier now. His flag is his altar of daily sacrifice.
Port after port falls, foreign flatterers stand coldly aloof,
empty magazines and idle fields are significant signs of the end.
Useless cotton cannot be sent out or made available, priceless
though it be. The rich western Mississippi is now closed as a
supply line for the armies. The paper funds of the new nation are
mere tokens of unpaid promises, never to be redeemed.
Never to falter, not to shun the driving attacks of the pursuing
horse or grappling foot, to watch his battle-flag glittering in the
van, to lead, cheer, hope, inspire, and madly head his men, is the
second nature of Valois. He has sworn not to see his flag dishonored.
It never occurs to him to ask WHERE his creed came from. His blood
thrills with the passionate devotion which blots out any sense of
mere right and wrong. His motto is "For Dixie's Land to Death."
CHAPTER XII.
HOOD'S DAY.--PEACHTREE CREEK.--VALOIS' LAST TRUST.--DE GRESS'
BATTERY.--DEAD ON THE FIELD OF HONOR.
A lantern burns dimly before the tent of Colonel Valois on the night
of July 21, 1864. Within the lines of Atlanta there is commotion.
Myriad lights flicker on the hills.
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