"John Carrington, you've fulfilled your promise and more. We always said at West Point that you'd become the greatest artilleryman in the world, and in this war you've proved it on fifty battle fields. We've often watched your work from the other side, and we've always admired the accuracy with which you sent the shells flying about us. It was wonderful, John, wonderful, and it did more than anything else to save the North from complete defeat!" A smile passed over John Carrington's strong face, and he patted his old comrade on the shoulder. "It's good to know, Leonidas, that neither you nor Hector has been killed," he said, "and that we can dine together again." "Truly, truly, John! Sit down! It's the hospitality of your own general that you share when you join us. General Lee would never make terms with men like McClellan, Burnside and Hooker. No, sir, he preferred to defeat them, much as it cost our Union in blood and treasure, but with a man of genius like General Grant he could agree. Really great souls always recognize one another. Is it not so, John?" "Beyond a doubt, Leonidas. We fully admit the greatness and lofty character of General Lee, as you admit the greatness and humanity of General Grant. One nation is proud to have produced two such men." "I agree with you, John. All of us agree with you. The soldiers of General Lee's army who are here today will never dispute what you say. Now fall on, and join us at this board which, though rustic, is indeed a most luxurious and festive one. As I remember at West Point, you were a first-class trencherman." "And I am yet," said John Carrington, as he took his share. They were joined a little later by a gallant young Southern colonel, Philip Sherburne, who had led in many a cavalry attack, and then the equally gallant Northern colonel, Alan Hertford, came also, and as everybody was introduced to everybody else the good feeling grew. At last the hunger that had been increasing so long was satisfied, and as they leaned back, Lieutenant Colonel St. Hilaire turned to Julien de Langeais: "Julien," he said, "take out your violin. There is no more fitting time than this to play. Julien, John, is a young relative of mine from Louisiana who has a gift. He is a great musician who is going to become much greater. Perhaps it was wrong to let a lad of his genius enter this war, but at any rate he has survived it, and now he will show us what he can do."