he setting sun shone through it ruddy; and last came
the squadron net of the Provost-marshal gathering in the stragglers.
Tired men were helped by a grip on the stirrup leather. The lazy
loiterers were urged forward with language unquotable, the mildest being
"darned coffee-coolers." At last, all had gone.

Josiah rose from his hiding place and listened as the clank of steel and
the sound of hurried horsemen died away. No other noises broke the
twilight stillness. He walked back to the roadside, and stood before the
pinioned and now lonely man. "You're caught at last, Peter Lamb."

"Oh, Lord!" cried the captive. "It's Josiah. For God's sake, let me
loose."

"Reckon I won't," said Josiah.

"I'm in agony--my arms--I shall die--and I am innocent. I did not do
anything. Won't you help me?"

"No--the Rebs will come and hang you."

The man's cunning awoke. He said the one thing, made the one plea which,
as he spoke, troubled Josiah's decision. "Is the Squire alive?"

"Why shouldn't he be alive?" asked Josiah, surprised.

"Oh, I saw in a paper that he was wounded at Gettysburg. Now, Josiah, if
he was here--if he was to know you left me to die."

Josiah was uncertain what he would have done. His simple-minded view of
things was disturbed, and his tendency to be forgiving kindly assisted to
give potency to the appeal. He said, "I won't set you free, but I'll do
this much," and he tore the paper from Peter's breast, saying, "You'll
get off with some lie when the Rebs come." Then he turned and walked
away, tearing up the death warrant and hearing the wild pleas of the
painfully bound man.

The night had come, but save for the faintly heard complaint of some
far-distant dog, there was nothing to break the quiet of the deserted
land which lay between the two armies. Having torn to pieces and
carefully scattered the bits of paper, Josiah, who while doing one thing
could not think of another, began to reflect on what he had done. He had
been too long in servitude not to respect authority. If any one knew--but
no one could know. He himself had said that what had come upon Lamb was a
judgment--the act of one who had said, "I will repay." It troubled a mind
whose machinery was of childlike incapacity to deal with problems
involving the moral aspects of conduct. Perhaps this had been a chance to
give Lamb an opportunity to repent by setting him free; but there had
already been interference with the judgment of God. More persona