A volley of oaths interrupted Griffith. The command had come up, and the staff-officers sat listening and waiting. The General was changing his first outburst into arguments. Griffith met them quite calmly. It seemed a long time now since he had found the relief he felt. It did not seem possible that it was only ten minutes ago that it had come to him. "This man knows the country even better than I do, General. He is willing to go--to take my place--and he is perfectly loyal--_loyal to me_. He will--what Mr. Lincoln wanted was that the work should be done, and done by one he could trust--it was not that he wanted _me_ to do it. I will stake my honor on this man's fidelity. He--" The word "deserter," mingled with threats, struck Griffith's ear; he did not pause to analyze it. "Mr. Lincoln told me that I was to return to him whenever I----" "God damn Mr. Lincoln! _I_ am in command of these troops! Mr. Lincoln didn't know he was giving me a couple of lunatics to deal with! If you attempt to leave you will be shot as a deserter, I tell you! I'll do it myself, by God!" Griffith's head dropped against his breast. He dismounted slowly and handed his bridle to the mountaineer. Lengthy hooked it over his arm and waited. Mr. Davenport deliberately knelt by the bank of the river, with his face toward the old home. "Shoot. I will go no farther!" he said, and closed his eyes. Instantly the mountaineer's gun went to his shoulder. His aim was at the General's breast. "Few-words-comprehends-th'-whole," he said, and the hammer clicked. The General smiled grimly. "Get up," he said. "I had no right to make that threat. You are a private citizen. You came of your own accord. You _are_ under Lincoln only. Get up! Can we trust this man, damn him?" Griffith staggered to his feet. The storm had left him weak and pale. The mountaineer dismounted and stood beside him. "You mean to take my place in good faith--to lead them right--I know, Lengthy; but tell him so _for me_," Griffith asked, in a tired voice, taking the swarthy hand in his. "You will do your best as a guide in my place, won't you?" Lengthy's response was unequivocal. "I will," he said in his monotonous tone, and somehow, as they stood hand in hand with the curious group of men about them, the reply reminded every one of the response in the marriage service, and a smile ran around as the men glanced at each other. "You promise to do all in your knowledge and power to enable them to get accurate knowledge and make their maps, don't you, Lengthy?" "I do." The similitude struck even the commander, and when Griffith turned, the irascible General was trying to cover a smile. "Are you satisfied, General? I will stake my life on both his capacity to do it--even better than I--and on his honor when he promises to do it for me. Are you satisfied?" "Have to be satisfied, I guess. Mount! March!"