Their pulses became stronger, and the blood flowed in a quickened torrent through their veins.

They let it pour upon them, merely seeking to keep their ammunition dry.
Ten thousand wounded were yet lying untouched in the forest, but the rain was grateful to them, too.

When they could they turned their fevered faces up to it that it might beat upon them and bring grateful coolness.
Deep in the night a council like that of the Southern generals was held in the Northern camp, also.

Grant, his face an expressionless mask, presided, and said but little.

Buell, Sherman, McClernand, Nelson, Wallace and others, were there, and Buell and Sherman, like their chief, spoke little.