“Not upon my own responsibility, sir, although with hearty goodwill.  In my humble station I am far more often called upon to obey orders than to give them.  You are aware of President Lincoln’s proclamation?”

“Yes, sir, and of the Pope’s bull against the comet.”

Scoville laughed so genially as partially to disarm his reply of its sting.  “In this instance, sir, our armies are rather gaining on the comet.”

“But what can you and your armies hope to accomplish?” Mrs. Whately asked.  “If you should destroy every Southern man, the women would remain unsubdued.”

“Now, madam, you have me at disadvantage.  I do not know what we would or could do if confronted only by implacable Southern women.”

“Do not imagine that I am jesting.  I cannot tell you how strange it seems that a man of your appearance and evident character should be among our cruel enemies.”

“And yet, Mrs. Whately, you cannot dispute the fact.  Pardon me for saying it, but I think that is just where the South is in such serious error.  It shuts its eyes to so many simple facts—­a course which experience proves is never wise.  I may declare, and even believe, that there is no solid wall before me, yet if I go headlong against it, I am bruised all the same.  Positive beliefs do not create truths.  I fancy that a few hours since you were absolutely sure that this courtesy of which I am the grateful recipient could not be, yet you were mistaken.”

“Has not the sad experience of many others inspired our fears?  Neither has the end come with us yet.  You said that the main Northern force would come this way tomorrow.  We do not fear you and those whom you control, but how about those who are to come?”

“I can speak only for the class to which I belong—­the genuine soldiers who are animated by as single and unfaltering a spirit as the best in your armies.  If a Confederate column were going through the North you could not answer for the conduct of every lawless, depraved man in such a force.  Still, I admit with you that war is essentially cruel, and that the aim ever must be to inflict as much injury as possible on one’s adversaries.”

“But how can you take part in such a war?” Mrs. Whately asked.  “All we asked was to be let alone.”

“Yes, sir,” added Mr. Baron, “how can you justify these ruthless invasions, this breaking up of our domestic institutions, this despoiling of our property and rights by force?” and there was a tremor of suppressed excitement in his voice.

Scoville glanced at Miss Lou to see how far she sympathized with her kindred.  He observed that her face was somewhat stern in its expression, yet full of intelligent interest.  It was not the index of mere prejudice and hate.  “Yes,” he thought, “she is capable of giving me a fair hearing; the others are not.  Mr. Baron,” he said, “your views are natural, perhaps, if not just.  I know it is asking much of human nature when you are suffering