“Mean as were the surroundings, I assure you it made a tragic scene. And there the Connecticut lad stood--thinking of the mother who could never bear to hear of shame upon her soldier boy, nor care to hear after where they had made his grave. “The Captain began the formal questioning; and Billy, in a clear, low voice, answered. Asked if he knew what it meant to converse with the enemy, he said: “‘Yes, sir.’ “‘Had he reversed his gun?’ “‘Yes, sir.’ “‘Had he handed the enemy a package?’ “‘Yes, sir.’ “‘What did it contain?’ “‘Tobacco, sir.’ “Billy whitened again, but he did not lie; and I seemed to read in the depths of his blue eyes a thought of ‘mother.’ There was a brief pause, and then I knew my moment had come. From my coat-pocket I produced a packet of the tobacco sent by our Northern contractor. “‘Forbes.’ “‘Yes, sir.’ “‘Was the tobacco you gave the enemy like this?’ I spoke, breaking a deathlike stillness. “Billy’s lips quivered. His look was like Cæsar’s ‘_Et tu, Brute!_’ But he did not flinch. Honest eye and proudly uplifted head were there when he answered, ‘Yes, sir.’ “‘Captain Hubert,’ I observed, turning to my superior, ‘there is a cart-load of the stuff still unused, for the reason that this tobacco was condemned as unfit, owing to some poisonous substance in the blue paper wrappers. I need scarcely point out to you,’ I continued, ‘that sentence of death could only be passed on Forbes for “carrying aid or comfort to the enemy.” Now, then, Captain, if you will kindly fill your pipe from this package, I feel sure you will decide whether Forbes can be condemned to death for providing the Johnnies with comfort from old Briggs’s consignment.’ “The tension was too great for even a smile, and Captain Hubert’s face flushed scarlet. He put out his hand, then drew it back. ‘This being the case,’ said he, in a stifled voice and rising to his feet, ‘we--we--can consider the case dismissed!’ “I met Billy a moment or two later, standing like a statue near my quarters. He looked at me piteously; but when I held out my hand, did not at once take it. “‘Lieutenant,’ said he, with the queer smile in his honest eyes I somehow felt he’d learned from his mother, ‘I--I--God bless you, sir; but did you send me with poison to those poor chaps?’ His voice shook, but he held up his head proudly. ‘Killing them in battle, sir, would be fair and square--’ “‘Billy,’ said I, ‘give me your hand, and you’ll get your shoulder-straps before the week is out! No, my boy! I picked out papers that hadn’t a speck of white stain on them. No, you’re not a murderer, my poor Billy; and go to your tent and write to your mother, for we’re near a battle harder than the one you and I fought this morning, thanks to the papers from the enemy.’” “Oh, General!” exclaimed Molly, “and what happened then?”