My Lady of the North

The Love Story of a Gray-Jacket




CHAPTER I

A DESPATCH FOR LONGSTREET


It was a bare, plain interior,--the low table at which he sat an
unplaned board, his seat a box, made softer by a folded blanket. His
only companions were two aides, standing silent beside the closed
entrance, anxious to anticipate his slightest need.

He will abide in my memory forever as I saw him then,--although we were
destined to meet often afterwards,--that old gray hero, whose masterly
strategy held at bay for so long those mighty forces hurled on our
constantly thinning lines of defence. To me the history of war has
never contained his equal, and while I live I shall love and revere him
as I can love and revere no other man.

"General Lee," said one of the aides, as I passed the single sentry and
drew aside the flap to step within, "this is Captain Wayne."

He deliberately pushed aside the mass of papers which had been engaging
him, and for an embarrassing moment fixed upon me a glance that seemed
to read me through and through. Then, with simple dignity, far more