“Dr. Johnson before Lord Chesterfield,” said the Doctor, laughing at his friend’s impatience and indignation. “Dr. Johnson before a dog!” was the little General’s retort. “Why, sir, I never treated a negro in my life as he has treated us.” At last, however, they were admitted. The officer, a stout man with closely cropped iron-gray hair, a lowering brow and a heavy jaw, was seated at his desk writing. He did not look up when they entered, but said, “Sit down,” and wrote on. When he was through, he called out, and a sentinel entered. “Send that off at once—or—wait where you are. I may have another to send.” He turned to the two visitors who were still standing. “Well?” “I am Major Cary,” that gentleman said, advancing, “And this is General Legaie.” He bowed gravely. “Oh! I know you,” said the officer. He turned to his desk and searched for something. “Oh!—I was not aware that I had had the pleasure of meeting you before,” said the Doctor, brightening. “Where was it, sir? I regret that my memory has not served me better.” He seated himself. “I did not say I had met you—I said I knew you, and I do. I know you both.” “Oh! I thought I should not have forgotten,” said the Doctor. “No, nor you won’t. I have a report of you, and know why you’ve come.” He shook his head as he turned to them. “I’m Colonel Krafton, Provost of this district, and I mean to be the Provost, and you might as well understand it now as hereafter.” “Oh!” said the Doctor, rising slowly from the seat he had taken. “I know about your conferences, and your meetings, and the terms you propose to dictate to me; but I will show you that I am in authority here and I don’t propose to be dictated to, either; do you understand? I don’t want any of your advice. When I want you I’ll send for you; do you understand? “ The Doctor, who had waited in a sort of maze for the Provost to pause, turned to his friend, whose face was perfectly white and whose usually pleasant eyes had a red rim around the irises. “I beg your pardon, General Legaie, I thought we should find a gentleman, but——” “I never did, Major,” said the little General. “But I had no idea we should find such a dog as this.” He turned to the Provost, and, with a bow, fixed his eyes on him. But that officer looked at the sentry and said: “Open the door.” The General looked out of it, expecting a file of soldiers to arrest them, and straightened himself for the ordeal. There was none there, however. The General’s countenance fell. “I said ‘dog,’ but I apologize to that animal, and say—_worm_!” He turned his eyes once more on the Provost. “I shall be at the Brandon tavern until the evening. Do you understand that?” he said, addressing the Provost. He stalked out, his nose high in the air, his heels ringing on the floor.