not notice the look of injury with which Heinze obeyed this request.
But I did, and I enjoyed the spectacle, and as Heinze handed me the
camp-chair I thanked him politely. I could afford to be generous.

The General was drawing the sword a few inches from its scabbard and
shoving it back, again, turning it over in his hands.

"And to think that this is John Hamilton's sword," he said, "and that
you are John Hamilton's grandson!" As the sword lay across his knees
he kept stroking it and touching it as one might caress a child,
glancing up at me from time to time with a smile. It seemed to have
carried him back again into days and scenes to which we all were
strangers, and we watched him without speaking. He became suddenly
conscious of our silence, and, on looking up, seemed to become
uncomfortably aware of the presence of Aiken and the two officers.

"That will do, gentlemen," he said. "You will return with Mr. Aiken
after roll-call." The officers saluted as they moved away, with Aiken
between them. He raised his eyebrows and tapped himself on the chest.
I understood that he meant by this that I was to say a good word for
him, and I nodded. When they had left us the General leaned forward
and placed his hand upon my shoulder.

"Now tell me," he said. "Tell me everything. Tell me what you are
doing here, and why you ran away from home. Trust me entirely, and do
not be afraid to speak the whole truth."

I saw that he thought I had left home because I had been guilty of
some wildness, if not of some crime, and I feared that my story would
prove so inoffensive that he would think I was holding something back.