“You’re very good to me, sir,” he said, “to encourage me at such a time, and, if you and the others care for me to play, I’ll do my best.”

“Paganini himself could do no more, but, for the present, we must pay due attention to the hospitality of General Grant.  He would not like it, if it should come to his ears that we did not show due appreciation, and since, in the course of events, and in order to prevent the mutual destruction of the sections, it became necessary for General Lee to arrange with someone to stop this suicidal war, I am glad the man was General Grant, a leader whose heart does him infinite credit.”

“General Grant is a very great man, and he has never proved it more fully than today,” said Dick, who sat near the colonels—­his first inclination had been to smile, but he restrained it.

“Truly spoken, young sir,” said Colonel Leonidas Talbot.  “General Lee and General Grant together could hold this continent against the world, and, now that we have quit killing one another, America is safe in their hands.  Harry, do you think I’ve eaten too much?  I wouldn’t go beyond the exploits of a gentleman, but this food has a wonderful savor, and I can’t say that I have dined before in months.”

“Not at all, sir, you have just fairly begun.  As Lieutenant Colonel St. Hilaire pointed out, General Grant would be displeased if we didn’t fully appreciate his hospitality and prove it by our deeds.  Here are some sardines, sir.  You haven’t tasted ’em yet, but you’ll find ’em wonderfully fine.”

Colonel Leonidas Talbot took the sardines, and then he and Lieutenant Colonel St. Hilaire rose suddenly and simultaneously to their feet, a look of wonder and joy spreading over their faces.

“Is it really he?” exclaimed Colonel Talbot.

“It’s he and none other,” said Lieutenant Colonel St. Hilaire.

A tall, powerfully built, gray-haired man was coming toward them, his hands extended.  Colonel Talbot and Lieutenant Colonel St. Hilaire stepped forward, and each grasped a hand.

“Good old John!”

“Why, John, it’s worth a victory to shake your hand again!”

“Leonidas, I’ve been inquiring, an hour or two, for you and Hector.”

“John Carrington, you’ve fulfilled your promise and more.  We always said at West Point that you’d become the greatest artilleryman in the world, and in this war you’ve proved it on fifty battle fields.  We’ve often watched your work from the other side, and we’ve always admired the accuracy with which you sent the shells flying about us.  It was wonderful, John, wonderful, and it did more than anything else to save the North from complete defeat!”

A smile passed over John Carrington’s strong face, and he patted his old comrade on the shoulder.

“It’s good to know, Leonidas, that neither you nor Hector has been killed,” he said, “and that we can dine together again.”