ully, sniffed at it, then raised his quiet eyes.

"Lieutenant-Colonel Morrison," he said in clear, incisive tones, "_go
back to your command!_"

Five words. Five short, plain words, yet they made all the difference
between a firing squad and a chance at life again. There was a
silence--then a gasp from Morrison's dry throat. At the sound of his
title--at the sound of that blessed order which, by right of supreme
power, instantly restored him to his rank, the Union officer leaped to
his feet with a cry of joy. But it was not even for those around him in
that little room to know the wonderful vista of happiness which opened
up again before the eyes which only a moment ago had been doomed to
close in the sleep of a disgraceful death.

The General's hand went up in a gesture which checked his gratitude.

"The _next_ time you are forced to decide between military duty and
humanity--think twice!"

He turned to his desk and took up a small piece of paper, crumpled and
torn.

"Captain Cary," he said, "I sincerely regret that I cannot honor the
pass as given you by Colonel Morrison," and he turned the paper over,
"but I do honor the pass of your General--R.E. Lee."

He folded the paper and held it out to Cary who came forward as if in a
dream. Then the General turned his back again and began to rummage on
his desk. The incident was closed.

But there was a rush of bare, childish feet sand before he could escape
Virgie's brown little arms were round him and her dimpled chin was
pressed against his waist.

The General made no effort to release himself but looked down on her
with a softer light in his face than any of his men had seen there in
many months.

"And as for you, young lady, the next time you pervert my officers and
upset the discipline of the Federal Army--well, I don't know _what_ I'll
do with you."

He looked down into her face and read there a wistful feminine appeal
for outward and visible reconciliation.

"Oh, well," he said with mock resignation, "I suppose I've got to do
it," and he stooped and kissed her. Then he took up his campaign hat and
walked towards the door.

Behind him the child in her tattered dress and bare brown legs stood
still and threw out her arms to him in a last soft-voiced good-by.

"Thank you, Gen'ral," called the Littlest Rebel, with the light of
heaven in her eyes. "Thank you for Daddy and Colonel Morrison and _me_.
You're another mighty good damn Yankee!"

And then, wit