"Would you like to come with me?"

"More than with any general in the army, since Jackson's death. You
know I am sincere in saying that."

"Thanks--then the matter can be very soon arranged, I think. I want
another inspector-general, and want _you_."

With these words Stuart seated himself at his desk, wrote a note,
which, he dispatched by a courier to army head-quarters; and then
throwing aside business, he began laughing and talking.

For once the supply of red tape in Richmond seemed temporarily
exhausted. Stuart was Lee's right hand, and when he made a request, the
War Office deigned to listen. Four days afterward, I was seated under
the canvas of a staff tent, when Stuart hastened up with boyish ardor,
holding a paper.

"Here you are, old Surry,"--when he used the prefix "old" to any one's
name, he was always excellently well disposed toward them,--"the
Richmond people are prompt this time. Here is your assignment--send for
Sweeney and his banjo! He shall play 'Jine the Cavalry!' in honor of
the occasion, Surry!"

You see now, my dear reader, how it happened that in June, 1863, Stuart
beckoned to me, and gave me an order to transmit to General Mordaunt.