"You'll be in no sharpshooters' pit here. They don't know enough to count you for what you're worth. If we're fortunate enough iver to get back to the --th, where we belong, there we'll pass for just exactly what we are. The most I want here is just to get out of the guard-tent. I think I can take care of the rest of it mesilf." The conversation of the young soldiers continued in spite of the repeated sounds of the distant firing. Two hours or more had elapsed, and still no word was brought them, nor had the chaplain returned. Eagerly the boys had talked over the possibilities of Levi being a spy, Dennis firmly contending that there was not "spunk enough in the little spalpeen to do anything for himself." Noel, however, claimed that the former sutler was not without a form of courage of his own. "There comes the chaplain," said Dennis, after a few minutes more had elapsed. "From the look of him I think he has got something he would like to say to us." Nor was the young Irishman disappointed. When the chaplain entered the tent his face was beaming and his satisfaction over what he was about to say was so manifest that every one of the inmates was confident good news of some kind had been brought. "We have just heard from Washington!" said the chaplain eagerly. "We sent a message to President Lincoln informing him just what had been done here,--the number of deserters, who had been hanged, and who had been shot, and how many were on hand, and asked what we should do next." "Did you tell him about us?" broke in Dennis. "Yes, we told him about you and the others, too." "Well, what word did you get? Why don't you out with it, yer Riverence?" The kind-hearted chaplain laughed and said, "I was just about to say, when you interrupted me, that after we had sent our message to Washington we did not expect to receive word in reply so soon. But the message has just come that the President has received our communication and--" "The Saints presarve us!" broke in Dennis. "Won't you please tell us what's happened?" "That's what I am telling you," continued the chaplain. "If you wouldn't interrupt me so frequently you would find out what I have come to say." "Well, tell us, then!" said Dennis. And although every inmate was silent, the face of every one gave evidence of the eagerness with which he was waiting for the visitor's word. "We have just received our message," began the chaplain once more, "and I confess that I have a feeling toward the President such as I never cherished before." "But what did he say?" broke in Dennis. "Be silent and I'll explain," said the chaplain. "We were not looking for an answer for several hours yet, but to our surprise the messenger has returned and has brought us word that President Lincoln has decided to--"