the
surrounding stillness, wishing for anything to occur which would give
action, when the major rode up, accompanied by another officer in an
artillery uniform. I was on my feet in an instant saluting.

"Lieutenant Galesworth, this is Captain Kent, an aide on General
Sheridan's staff. He desires you to accompany him to headquarters."

My heart bounding with anticipation, within five minutes I was riding
beside him, back to the river road, and along the rear of our extended
line. He was a pleasant, genial fellow, but knew nothing of why I had
been summoned, his orders being simply to bring me at once. Two hours of
hard riding, and we came to a double log cabin, with a squad of horsemen
in front, and a considerable infantry guard near by. A sentry paced back
and forth in front of the steps, and several officers were sitting on
the porch. Dismounting, my companion handed the reins of both horses to
a trooper, and led the way in. A word to the sentinel, and we faced the
group above. One, a sharp-featured man, with very dark complexion, rose
to his feet.

"What is it, Kent?"

"This is Lieutenant Galesworth, of the Ninth Illinois Cavalry. The
general will wish to see him at once."

The dark-featured man glanced at me, and turned back into the house, and
Kent introduced me to the others, none of whom I recognized. This was
not Sheridan's staff, but before I could question any of them, the
messenger returned, and motioned for me to follow. It was a large room,
low-ceilinged, with three windows, the walls of bare logs whitewashed,
the floor freshly swept, the only furniture a table and a few chairs.
But two men were present, although a sentinel stood motionless at the
door,--a broad-shouldered colonel of engineers, with gray moustache and
wearing glasses, sitting at a table littered with papers, and a short
stocky man, attired in a simple blue blouse, with no insignia of rank
visible, his back toward me, gazing out of a window. I took a single
step within, and halted. The short man wheeled about at the slight
sound, his eyes on my face; I recognized instantly the closely trimmed
beard, the inevitable cigar between the lips, and, with a leap of the
heart, my hand rose to the salute.

"Lieutenant Galesworth?"

"Yes, General."

"Very well; you may retire, Colonel Trout, and, sentry, close the door."

His keen gray eyes scrutinized my face, betraying no emotion, but he
advanced closer, one hand upon the table.

"Gener