He could not be blamed even by his enemies for the act.

He felt no exultation, and hoped from the bottom of his heart that the man was prepared to meet his Maker, into whose presence he had been so suddenly summoned.
Tom had heard the boys in Pinchbrook talk lightly about killing rebels, and he had talked so himself; but the reality was not so pleasant as it had seemed at a distance.

He was sorry for the poor fellow, and wished he had not been obliged to kill him.

It was terrible to him, even in battle, to take a human life, to slay a being created in the image of God, and for whom Christ lived and died.
While he was indulging in these sad reflections, he heard a bullet whistle near his head.

The Secesh soldier on the shore had loaded up his companions' muskets, and was doing his best to bring down the lucky fugitive.