is
buttoned waistcoat, as if resisting the outrage that had been done
while still in life. As the men disengaged the stiffened hand something
slipped from the waistcoat to the ground. The corporal picked it up and
handed it to his officer. It was a sealed packet. The officer received
it with the carelessness which long experience of these pathetic
missives from the dying to their living relations had induced, and
dropped it in the pocket of his tunic, with the half-dozen others that
he had picked up that morning, and moved on with the detail. A little
further on they halted, in the attitude of attention, as a mounted
officer appeared, riding slowly down the line.

There was something more than the habitual respect of their superior in
their faces as he came forward. For it was the general who had commanded
the brigade the day before,--the man who had leaped with one bound into
the foremost rank of military leaders. It was his invincible spirit
that had led the advance, held back defeat against overwhelming numbers,
sustained the rally, impressed his subordinate officers with his own
undeviating purpose, and even infused them with an almost superstitious
belief in his destiny of success. It was this man who had done what
it was deemed impossible to do,--what even at the time it was thought
unwise and unstrategic to do,--who had held a weak position, of
apparently no importance, under the mandate of an incomprehensible order
from his superior, which at best asked only for a sacrifice and was
rewarded with a victory. He had decimated his brigade, but the wounded
and dying had cheered him as he passed, and the survivors had pursued
the enemy until the bugle called them back. For such a record he looked
still too young and scholarly, albeit his handsome face was dark and
energetic, and his manner taciturn.

His quick eye had already caught sight of the rifled body of the
officer, and contracted. As the captain of the detail saluted him he
said curtly,--

"I thought the orders were to fire upon any one desecrating the dead?"

"They are, General; but the hyenas don't give us a chance. That's all
yonder poor fellow saved from their claws," replied the officer, as he
held up the sealed packet. "It has no address."

The general took it, examined the envelope, thrust it into his belt, and
said,--

"I will take charge of it."

The sound of horses' hoofs came from the rocky roadside beyond the
brook. Both men turned. A numb