MY LADY OF THE SOUTH
the brief note handed him by the aide; then he looked up, carefully scrutinizing my face with his quiet gray eyes.
"What is your name?"
"King, sir."
"You claim to have been a sergeant in Reynolds's Battery, I understand?"
"Yes, sir."
He turned quickly to an officer at the end of the table.
"Morton, step outside, and request Lieutenant McDermott to come here for a moment."
We waited in silence, the General nervously rustling some loose papers about on the table before him, and whispering short, snappy sentences to a man in a major's uniform seated beside him. Perhaps ten minutes thus elapsed before Morton returned with his man. Rosecrans glanced up inquiringly at the latter, and then over toward me.
"Lieutenant," he said quietly, "kindly inform us if you have ever seen this man before."
The officer thus addressed stepped over toward me, confused by the light, as well as the Confederate uniform I wore, then his bronzed face broke into a smile, and he extended his hand.
"By Heavens, King, but I am glad to see you alive and safe again; we had you marked down as 'killed, or missing,' and there are mighty few of us left."
"He belonged to you, then?" It was the voice of the General, breaking in impatiently upon our greeting.
"This man is Sergeant Elbert King, of Reynolds's Battery, sir," answered McDermott, turning instantly to-
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