"I am glad to see that you are well, General Stuart"

The room was silent He caught a glimpse of Longstreet standing to one side and could sense the barely concealed anger.

Stuart started to say something, but Lee motioned him to silence.

"General Stuart there is time enough later for us to discuss what has happened these last few days. The hour is late. I am more concerned with what will happen in the morning."

Though he spoke softly, he fixed Stuart intently with his gaze, conveying with a single look that the issue would not be forgotten. The man had to be reined in but not broken. A touch of uncertainty at this moment would be good, making him more attentive to the task ahead.

Lee stepped up to the map table, taking off his gauntlets, laying them to one side.

Spread out on the center of the table was a sketch map in Jed Hotchkiss's bold hand of the day's battlefield.

Hotchkiss cleared his throat "Sir, as you can see, this hill, the locals call it Cemetery Hill, dominates the position south of town. Their First Eleventh, and we believe a division of Twelfth Corps now occupy that hill, along with sixty pieces of artillery.

"Their left flank, extending on what is called Cemetery Ridge," and as he spoke he traced out the position, "stretches south for a mile, up to this crossroads in the middle of a peach orchard, where the road to Emmitsburg crosses a road that heads west to Fairfield."

"These two hills behind that crossroad?" Lee asked.

'1 got a brief look at them just before dark, sir. The higher of the two is wooded. It appears as if they have established a signal station atop it One of my staff saw flags up there. The lower of the two, with a rocky race, is clear cut on its western slope, facing us, and giving them an excellent field of fire. This left flank, the ridge, the crossroads, the two hills are occupied by Dan Sickles's Third Corps and Buford's division of cavalry."

Lee nodded, finger tracing out the line.

"And their right?"

"The locals call this position Culp's Hill."

"Difficult ground," Dick Ewell interrupted. "In our last attack, one of Johnson's brigades swept across the face of it. The crest was occupied by a mix of First Corps and at least a brigade from Twelfth Corps. They're digging in."

"And our own left?"

Hotchkiss looked over at Ewell.

"It's up in the air, sir," Ewell replied hurriedly in his high, piping voice. "That's where the other brigade of Johnson got tangled up. Sir, I assure you, there was a division of Union troops deploying out there beyond Grip's Hill. We even took a couple of prisoners; they're Twelfth Corps."

"Are they still there?"

Ewell was silent

"Are they?"

"I don't know, sir. The men are exhausted; it's dark. If we had a couple of regiments of cavalry, we'd soon find out" and as he spoke his gaze shifted to Stuart

"We don't have them yet," Lee replied, saying each word sharply and clearly.

"My first brigade will be up before dawn," Stuart quickly interjected.

Lee looked up. "I am not looking for excuses, gentlemen. At the moment I am seeking answers."

The room fell silent the men around him looking pale and drawn as they stood beneath the flickering light of the lanterns suspended from the ceiling.

"I need to know if my flank is secure," he announced after a long silence. "General Ewell, inform General Johnson that I wish an immediate reconnaissance to our left Inform him as well that General Stuart's men will be coming up the road from Hanover, and that they are to link up and contain any threats developing in that direction."

Ewell nodded and stepped from the room.

Lee returned his attention to the map. Left, center, or to the right?

"What else do we know?"

"Their Second and Fifth Corps are coming up," Jed continued.

"How soon?" Again silence.

"How soon?" And this time his voice was sharper and more insistent

"We have to assume they will be up by morning," Longstreet finally interjected. 'To assume otherwise would be dangerous."

"I need to know what exactly is their disposition," Lee replied coldly. "I cannot continue this operation on assumptions. I hear no mention of their Sixth Corps; that's the strongest formation in their army."

"Sir, we brushed around them two days ago down past Manchester," Stuart announced.

"Manchester?"

Jed quickly pointed to the second map on the side of the table, which covered the entire region from Harrisburg in the north down to Washington and west to the valley.

"Here, sir, twenty-five miles to the southeast, nearly halfway back to Baltimore."

'Two days ago. They could be marching behind us even now."

"No, sir," Stuart quickly replied. "My main force is in Hanover. It is, in fact, sir, securing your left flank. No one is moving to flank you."

Lee looked back up at Stuart He knew the boy was reaching for justifications, to make it appear as if he had been performing a valuable service. Indirectly he had. Sixth Corps, old John Sedgwick's command, could very well be twenty-five miles off. Sedgwick might be popular with his own people, but his performance during the Chancellorsville campaign had been abysmal. By all rights Sedgwick should have been crushed against the river after the battle at Salem Church, Lee thought Only the incompetence of my own people saved him.

Sedgwick might still be a day away.

The silence dragged out Left, right or center?

Too many unknowns with the left An advance along that axis also drags us farther away from our reserves, communications, and supplies still on the other side of the South Mountains. Any maneuver would be clearly visible from Cemetery Hill as well.

The center? The vision held for a moment the flags going up the hill, heights crowned with smoke and fire and then the final shattering volley, the men streaming back. So close, so close. And now four thousand of them dead or wounded, the town a charnel house.

My fault I thought we could push them off. Just one more push. Perhaps if it had been better coordinated, all of Johnson's brigades going in at the same time as Anderson. No matter what the cause, though, four thousand men were dead or wounded for nothing. Tomorrow the Union will have even more forces on those hills, and our casualties would be even greater. I cannot let that happen again.

He kept staring at the map, gauging, judging distances, the ticking of the clock in the stationmaster's office, the steady undercurrent of the ever-present army outside, distant conversations, a horse whinnying in pain, the echo of a pistol shot ending the cries, the creaking of wagons passing, the moaning of the wounded suffering inside the jostling ambulances.

His finger traced across the map of the battlefield one more time. "Here."

There was a stirring as the men around him leaned over.

"Our left is uncertain. Besides, deployment to that flank will be observed from the cemetery. We tried the center…" and he fell silent

"It is here, on our right These two hills. Our advance to that position will be covered by this ridge," and as he spoke ' he pointed out the crest running south from the seminary.

"Deploy by dawn, advance en echelon overlapping the two hills, cutting off this road that goes back to Taneytown. Doing that we flank Cemetery Hill and cut them off."

No one spoke and slowly he looked up, his gaze meeting Longstreet's.

Longstreet said nothing, unlit cigar clenched firmly in the comer of his mouth. He caught a flicker of a gaze from Ewell, who had come back into the room. Hill, obviously ill, eyes glazed, stared at the map, saying nothing. Jed Hotchkiss, assuming the role of a lowly major in a roomful of generals, stood with gaze unfocused, eyes locked straight ahead.

"General?" Lee asked.

Longstreet took the cigar out of his mouth and finally shook his head. "We were thinking of something different, sir."