men?"

The reply was astounding!

"I knew that, general. It appeared to be none of my business."

Then, breaking the dead silence that followed his answer, he said:

"I must refer you to General Cameron."

"General Cameron is dead, sir--as dead as he can be--as dead as any man
in this army. He lies back yonder under a tree. Do you mean to say that
he had anything to do with this horrible business?"

Captain Ransome did not reply. Observing the altercation his men had
gathered about to watch the outcome. They were greatly excited. The fog,
which had been partly dissipated by the firing, had again closed in so
darkly about them that they drew more closely together till the judge on
horseback and the accused standing calmly before him had but a narrow
space free from intrusion. It was the most informal of courts-martial,
but all felt that the formal one to follow would but affirm its
judgment. It had no jurisdiction, but it had the significance of
prophecy.

"Captain Ransome," the general cried impetuously, but with something in
his voice that was almost entreaty, "if you can say anything to put a
better light upon your incomprehensible conduct I beg you will do so."

Having recovered his temper this generous soldier sought for something
to justify his naturally sympathetic attitude toward a brave man in the
imminence of a dishonorable death.

"Where is Lieutenant Price?" the captain said.

That officer stood forward, his dark saturnine face looking somewhat
forbidding under a bloody handkerchief bound about his brow. He
understood the summons and needed no invitation to speak. He did not
look at the captain, but addressed the general:

"During the engagement I discovered the state of affairs, and apprised
the commander of the battery. I ventured to urge that the firing cease.
I was insulted and ordered to my post."

"Do you know anything of the orders under which I was acting?" asked the
captain.

"Of any orders under which the commander of the battery was acting," the
lieutenant continued, still addressing the general, "I know nothing."

Captain Ransome felt his world sink away from his feet. In those cruel
words he heard the murmur of the centuries breaking upon the shore of
eternity. He heard the voice of doom; it said, in cold, mechanical, and
measured tones: "Ready, aim, fire!" and he felt the bullets tear his
heart to shreds. He heard the sound of the earth upon his coffin and (if
the good God was s