praised the poor
devil's disability with a look and moved sullenly on, inserting a
cartridge in his weapon.

In all this was none of the pomp of war--no hint of glory. Even in his
distress and peril the helpless civilian could not forbear to contrast
it with the gorgeous parades and reviews held in honor of himself--with
the brilliant uniforms, the music, the banners, and the marching. It was
an ugly and sickening business: to all that was artistic in his nature,
revolting, brutal, in bad taste.

"Ugh!" he grunted, shuddering--"this is beastly! Where is the charm of
it all? Where are the elevated sentiments, the devotion, the heroism,
the--"

From a point somewhere near, in the direction of the pursuing enemy,
rose the clear, deliberate sing-song of Captain Armisted.

"Stead-y, men--stead-y. Halt! Com-mence fir-ing."

The rattle of fewer than a score of rifles could be distinguished
through the general uproar, and again that penetrating falsetto:

"Cease fir-ing. In re-treat... maaarch!"

In a few moments this remnant had drifted slowly past the Governor, all
to the right of him as they faced in retiring, the men deployed at
intervals of a half-dozen paces. At the extreme left and a few yards
behind came the captain. The civilian called out his name, but he did
not hear. A swarm of men in gray now broke out of cover in pursuit,
making directly for the spot where the Governor lay--some accident of
the ground had caused them to converge upon that point: their line had
become a crowd. In a last struggle for life and liberty the Governor
attempted to rise, and looking back the captain saw him. Promptly, but
with the same slow precision as before, he sang his commands:

"Skirm-ish-ers, halt!" The men stopped and according to rule turned to
face the enemy.

"Ral-ly on the right!"--and they came in at a run, fixing bayonets and
forming loosely on the man at that end of the line.

"Forward... to save the Gov-ern-or of your State... doub-le quick...
maaarch!"

Only one man disobeyed this astonishing command! He was dead. With a
cheer they sprang forward over the twenty or thirty paces between them
and their task. The captain having a shorter distance to go arrived
first--simultaneously with the enemy. A half-dozen hasty shots were
fired at him, and the foremost man--a fellow of heroic stature, hatless
and bare-breasted--made a vicious sweep at his head with a clubbed
rifle. The officer parried the blow at the cost