"And a mother in New Jersey mourns an only son, and she a widow," he interrupted, his voice implacable in its sternness. "Miss Harriet, I lament the cruel necessity which alone can induce so distressing a measure. It is my desire not only to soften the inevitable calamities of war, but even to introduce on every occasion as great a share of tenderness and humanity as can possibly be exercised in a state of hostility. But for the barbarous and inhuman murder of Captain Johnson there must be satisfaction." "And will it give satisfaction to wreak vengeance upon an innocent person?" she cried stung to bitterness. The grim countenance of the general was not encouraging. His eyes seemed to pierce her as with cold steel. "Is it not as barbarous, as inhuman to execute one who is as guiltless as yourself in the matter? You, sir, are dealing ruthlessly when you visit such penalty upon a victim. It shows want of humanity." "I am listening to you, Miss Harriet," he said patiently, "because you are grieved and anguished over the affair. I know that you are much overwrought. Therefore will I explain to you that by all the usages of war, and upon the principle of retaliation I should have been justified in executing an officer of equal rank with Captain Johnson immediately upon receiving proofs of his death, and then informing the British commander of what I had done." "You are so stern," she cried with growing excitement. "So stern! So unfeeling!" "Nay," he protested, and there was compassion in his tone. "Not unfeeling. Although duty calls me to make this decisive determination in the matter humanity prompts me to drop a tear for the unfortunate offering. I most devoutly wish that something might be done to save his life." "You do?" she cried eagerly. "Why, sir, 'tis easily done. A scratch of the pen is all that is necessary. Oh, 'tis a great thing to have such power! See, here are ink-horn, powder and paper! What doth hinder you from writing an order for his release?" She stepped quickly to the table as she spoke, and picking up a quill held it appealingly toward him. His eyes softened. "Stay!" he said. "I do feel just that way, Miss Harriet, but there is a duty that must be performed toward our people. There are many American prisoners held by the enemy. Among them some as young, as manly, as lovable as your brother. If the matter be suffered to go by without retaliation what assurance have we that they will not be as lawlessly dealt with as Captain Johnson?" "Oh!" she said looking at him miserably. "But Clifford hath been guilty of naught. Were he a spy, an informer, a deserter, I would not ask you to abate one jot or tittle of his fate. I might in such case try to rescue him by trickery, by deceit, by any means that would save his life, but I would not question the justice of his doom. But he is not a spy, not an informer, not a deserter----" [Illustration: "I KNEEL TO YOU, SIR."]