“None other, sir,” answered Mr. Brinsmade.  “She has been much honored for it.  You may remember that the Judge was a close friend of her father’s before the war.  And—­well, they quarrelled, sir.  The Colonel went South, you know.”

“When—­when was the Judge taken ill, Mr. Brinsmade?” Stephen asked.  The thought of Virginia and his mother caring for him together was strangely sweet.

“Two days before I left, sir, Dr. Polk had warned him not to do so much.  But the Doctor tells me that he can see no dangerous symptoms.”

Stephen inquired now of Mr. Brinsmade how long he was to be with them.

“I am going on to the other camps this afternoon,” said he.  “But I should like a glimpse of your quarters, Stephen, if you will invite me.  Your mother would like a careful account of you, and Mr. Whipple, and—­your many friends in St. Louis.”

“You will find my tent a little wet, air,” replied Stephen, touched.

Here the General, who had been sitting by watching them with a very curious expression, spoke up.

“That’s hospitality for you, Brinsmade!”

Stephen and Mr. Brinsmade made their way across plank and bridge to Stephen’s tent, and his mess servant arrived in due time with the package from home.  But presently, while they sat talking of many things, the canvas of the fly was thrust back with a quick movement, and who should come stooping in but General Sherman himself.  He sat down on a cracker box.  Stephen rose confusedly.

“Well, well, Brice,” said the General, winking at Mr. Brinsmade, “I think you might have invited me to the feast.  Where are those cigars Mr. Brinsmade was talking about?”

Stephen opened the box with alacrity.  The General chose one and lighted it.

“Don’t smoke, eh?” he inquired.  “Why, yes, sir, when I can.”

“Then light up, sir,” said the General, “and sit down, I’ve been thinking lately of court-martialing you, but I decided to come ’round and talk it over with you first.  That isn’t strictly according to the rules of the service.  Look here, Mr. Brice, why did you leave St. Louis?”

“They began to draft, sir, and I couldn’t stand it any longer.”

“But you wouldn’t have been drafted.  You were in the Home Guards, if I remember right.  And Mr. Brinsmade tells me you were useful in many ways What was your rank in the Home Guards?”

“Lieutenant colonel, sir.”

“And what are you here?”

“A second lieutenant in temporary command, General.”  “You have commanded men?”

“Not in action, sir.  I felt that that was different.”

“Couldn’t they do better for you than a second-lieutenancy?”

Stephen did not reply at once, Mr. Brinsmade spoke up, “They offered him a lieutenant-colonelcy.”

The General was silent a moment:  Then he said “Do you remember meeting me on the boat when I was leaving St. Louis, after the capture of Fort Henry?”