. His "honorable mention" had been
earned by not running away anyhow.

Nevertheless, Private Grayrock was far from satisfied with the night's
adventure, and when the next day he made some fair enough pretext to
apply for a pass to go outside the lines, and the general commanding
promptly granted it in recognition of his bravery the night before, he
passed out at the point where that had been displayed. Telling the
sentinel then on duty there that he had lost something,--which was true
enough--he renewed the search for the person whom he supposed himself to
have shot, and whom if only wounded he hoped to trail by the blood. He
was no more successful by daylight than he had been in the darkness, and
after covering a wide area and boldly penetrating a long distance into
"the Confederacy" he gave up the search, somewhat fatigued, seated
himself at the root of the great pine tree, where we have seen him, and
indulged his disappointment.

It is not to be inferred that Grayrock's was the chagrin of a cruel
nature balked of its bloody deed. In the clear large eyes, finely
wrought lips, and broad forehead of that young man one could read quite
another story, and in point of fact his character was a singularly
felicitous compound of boldness and sensibility, courage and conscience.

"I find myself disappointed," he said to himself, sitting there at the
bottom of the golden haze submerging the forest like a subtler sea--
"disappointed in failing to discover a fellow-man dead by my hand! Do I
then really wish that I had taken life in the performance of a duty as
well performed without? What more could I wish? If any danger
threatened, my shot averted it; that is what I was there to do. No, I am
glad indeed if no human life was needlessly extinguished by me. But I am
in a false position. I have suffered myself to be complimented by my
officers and envied by my comrades. The camp is ringing with praise of
my courage. That is not just; I know myself courageous, but this praise
is for specific acts which I did not perform, or performed--otherwise.
It is believed that I remained at my post bravely, without firing,
whereas it was I who began the fusillade, and I did not retreat in the
general alarm because bewildered. What, then, shall I do? Explain that I
saw an enemy and fired? They have all said that of themselves, yet none
believes it. Shall I tell a truth which, discrediting my courage, will
have the effect of a lie? Ugh! it is an