There was a silence and then--without turning around-- "Well, Lieutenant, what is it ?" "A short conference, General, if you'll grant it.

The case of Lieutenant-Colonel Morrison." It was hard work to talk to one who kept his back turned and Harris was embarrassed.
The smoke from the General's cigar still curled lazily upwards.
"Reprieve ?" came the monosyllabic question.
Harris caught himself together and put all his feelings.
"No, General.

A _pardon_!" At once Grant wheeled and stood gazing at him keenly.
"_Pardon ?_" he said, and he advanced with deliberation to the desk where he stood with his eyes steady on Harris' face.

"Lieutenant! Do you want me to think you are out of your mind ?" Before Harris could reply Grant stopped him with a gesture and picked up a batch of papers which lay on the desk.
"The man has been given every chance.

He has been court-martialed--and found guilty." He dropped the papers in the case back on the desk.