"Do you call a man a traitor who fought as Morrison did a week ago?
Who stood his ground till his whole command was shot to pieces! And then stood alone--defending his colors in the face of hell let loose!" The appeal was impassioned, its sincerity and humanity undoubted.

Yet it seemingly only served to make the grim rules of war more unyielding than ever.
Choosing his words with more than ordinary care, and speaking them in firm, even tones, the General made his reply.
"No act of bravery can atone for a soldier's lapse from duty." He sat down at his desk and began to write.
Under ordinary circumstances Lieutenant Harris might have accepted defeat for there seemed no use in trying to break down that iron will or touch the heart of this relentless soldier.

But this was something more than an ordinary case and Harris was more than simply Morrison's counsel--he was his friend.

The two had fought together through three hard campaigns; they had shared food and water and shelter, had slept together for warmth on sodden fields, had exchanged such confidences as two officers from the same town in the North but of unequal rank may exchange under the pressure of war-time emotions.

If there was one man living who knew Morrison's heart and appreciated his motives to the uttermost it was his lieutenant and the young officer was prepared to lose his commission, aye, even face prison for insubordination if continued opposition to the Commander-in-Chief would result in a re-hearing.