The confession came from little Morehead haltingly, as though he spoke against his own will in his own defence. “Damn their reputation!” shouted Major Stone. “Your very words are an admission of the things I allege against you, and against all of you here. Concede that your antagonists are stronger than you, man for man. Concede that they outclass you in experience. Is that any reason why they should outclass you in courage and in determination? Your father and the fathers of more than half of the rest of you served in an army that for four years defended our beloved country against a foe immensely stronger than they were--stronger in men, in money, in munitions, in food, in supplies, in guns--stronger in everything except valour. “Suppose, because of the odds against them, your people had lost heart from the very outset, as you yourselves have lost heart here today. Would that great war have lasted for four years? Or would it have lasted for four months? Would the Southern Confederacy have endured until it no longer had the soldiers to fill the gaps and hold the lines; or food for the bellies of those soldiers who were left; or powder and lead for their guns? Or would it have surrendered after the first repulse, as you have surrendered? Answer me that, some of you! “These Northerners are game clear through; I can tell that. Their ancestors before them were brave men--the Southern Confederacy could never have been starved out and bled white by a breed of cowards. And these young men here--these splendid young Americans from up yonder in that Northern country--have the same gallant spirit their people showed forty years ago against your people. But you--you have lost the spirit of your race, that surely must have been born in you. You are going to let these Yankees run right over you--your behaviour proves it--and not fight back. That is what I charge against you. That is what I am here to tell you.” “How about me?” put in one of the blanketed contingent of his audience. “My people were all Unionists.” “Your name?” demanded the Major of him. “Speedman.” “A son of the late Colonel Henry T. Speedman?” “His nephew.” “I knew your uncle and your uncle's brothers and your grandfather. They were Union-men from principle; and I admired them for it, even though we differed, and even though they took up arms against their own kinsmen and fought on the opposite side. They wore the blue from conviction; but when the war was over your uncle, being a Southerner, helped to save his native state from carpetbaggery and bayonet rule. That was the type of man your uncle was. I regret to note that you did not inherit his qualities. I particularly observed your behaviour out there on that field yonder a while ago. You quit, young man--you quit like a dog!”