But Uncle Billy paid not a bit of attention as the Adjutant sprang up.  All his thought was for his master and his own explanation.

“Dey wouldn’ lemme git thru, seh!” he cried, pleading absolution from what had seemed an inexcusable breach of trust.  “Dey wouldn’ gimme no pass an’ I’se des been stuck!  Aw, Gawd, Mars’ Cary—­an’ I axed ’em ev’y day!”

“There now, Billy—­don’t,” Cary said with a gesture of pity and unending gratitude.

Uncle Billy rose slowly to his feet.

“Yas, seh.  Yas, seh,” he answered obediently. “‘Skuse me, Mars’ Gen’l.  I couldn’ he’p it, seh.  I—­I couldn’ he’p it.  Dey wouldn’ eben lemme see him in de guard house—­”

“That will do,” interrupted the General firmly.  “Listen to me.  When did you see Mr. Morrison—­last?”

“Him?” said Uncle Billy, looking around at the Union officer.  “’Twas—­’twas in de spring, seh.  Yas, seh.  De time de Yankees bu’nt us out.”

“How’s that?” asked the General, not understanding.

Lieutenant Harris came forward a step.

“The act of incendiarism I spoke of, General—­on the part of Sergeant Dudley.”

The General looked up and nodded.

“I see,” he said, and Harris, knowing that due weight would be given the fact let go a faint sigh of relief and stepped back.

The cigar came out of the General’s mouth.  “Tell me about it,” he said to Uncle Billy.

The old negro drew himself up and shifted his weight onto his other foot.

“Well, seh, ‘twas dis way.  One mornin’ de blue-bellies—­’skuse me, seh, de cav’lry gent’men.  One mornin’ de cav’lry gent’men come ridin’ up, lookin’ fer horses an’ fodder an’—­an’ Mars’ Cary—­an’ anything else what was layin’ roun’.  Yas, seh.  An’ des’ befo’ dis here gent’man come,” with a bow at Morrison, “a low-lived white man took’n grab me by de th’oat—­an’ choke me, seh.  Den he ’sult Miss Hallie—­”

“Miss Hallie?” queried the General.

“My mis’tiss, seh,” answered Uncle Billy.  “My mis’tiss, seh,” he said again and his hand went up to his eyes.

“The wife of Captain Cary,” Harris said in a low tone and the General nodded.

“Den—­bless Gawd—­de Cun’l come!  He pick him down offn de front po’ch—­and put him under ‘rest.  Yas, seh.  An’ Miss Hallie, she sho’ was hoppin’, Gen’l.  She—­”

“Never mind that,” sighed the man whose creed was Patience.  “Go on with the story.”

“Yas, seh.  Thank’e, seh.  ‘Twas des lek I tell you, seh.  An’ arfter while orders come to de cav’lry gent’men fer to light out fr’m dar in a hurry.  An’ whilst dey was gettin’ ready, seh, an’ me an’ de Cun’l was waitin’ roun’ fer to proteck de property, de fire bus’ right out de winders!

“Dat’s right, Mars’ Gen’l,” Uncle Billy hurried to state, as the General’s eyebrows went up in surprise.  “Dat’s right.  Den de front do’ flewed open, an’ here come dat po’ white trash rapscallion—­wid de pine knot in his han’.  Yas, seh.  He—­”