nd again he bent over
his map.

Forbes, passing out again, paused as Harris gestured.

"You'll find him somewhere near the guard house," the Lieutenant said
with a flicker of a, smile. "The old man has been regularly camping out
there since he learned that his master was inside."

A minute passed and then, from a short distance away, came the sound of
a squad of soldiers marching. In single file, with the two prisoners in
line, the squad came into the hallway and stopped at the doorway.

"_Halt! Left face! Order arms! Prisoners file out!_" The two prisoners
stepped forward and entered the room.

Thanks to expert surgical work since he entered Union lines, Herbert
Cary's wounds had healed quickly while plenty of good food had done the
rest. His eyes may not have been bright with hope but at least they
were clear with health and his straight back and squared shoulders
showed that the man's fighting spirit had not left him even under the
adverse decision of a court-martial.

Of the two, Morrison seemed the graver and quieter. With his sword taken
from him and his shoulder straps ripped off the man who had been a
Lieutenant-Colonel in the Army of the Potomac only the day before stood
looking at his general without the slightest hope for clemency. Yet,
with all the sad, quiet look of resignation in his eyes, behind them
glowed a wonderful light--the light of self-sacrifice. For he had chosen
to put on the tender glove of humanity and grip hands with the mailed
gauntlet of war, and though he had been crushed yet even in this bitter
hour they could not take from him the knowledge that the Commander in
Chief of all spiritual armies would stand forever on his side. They
could take his sword and shoulder straps but they could not rob him of
that divine consolation.

And so the two stood with their eyes steady on the General--the
Confederate, hard and defiant--the Union officer with a strange, sad
glow on his face.

But the General paid them no attention. He was still studying the map
laid out before him on his desk, the cigar in the corner of his mouth
drawing one side of his face into harsh, deep lines. As a matter of
fact, Ulysses Simpson Grant was very far removed from harshness--he was
simply and solely efficiency personified. When nothing was to be said
General Grant said nothing. To do otherwise was waste.

Presently he looked up and saw that while Forbes had given the two
prisoners chairs directly in front of hi